ESTIMATES 



ENGLISH KINGS, 



LONDON : PRINTED BY 

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 

AND PARLIAMENT STREET 



ESTIMATES 



OP THE 



ENGLISH KINGS 



FROM WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR' TO GEORGE III. 



J. LANGTON SANFORD, 

AUTHOR OF "STUDIES AND ILLUSTRATIONS OP THE 'GREAT REBELLION,"' EJ'C. 



'To be a king and wear a crown is more glorious to them 
that see it than it is pleasure to them that bear it.' 

Queen Elizabeth. 






LONDON : 

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 

1872. 




All rights reserved. 



./ 



THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 



THE MEMORY 



WILLIAM CALDWELL ROSCOE. 



PEEEACE 



The ' Estimates, 5 now published in a collected form, 
have appeared at intervals during the last two years 
in the columns of the ' Spectator 3 newspaper. They 
were undertaken, at the suggestion of the Editors of 
that periodical, with the hope that they might assist 
in supplying a want which has been felt by many 
readers of English History, of some more* distinct 
conceptions of the English Kings as living men than 
are supplied by the incidental notices scattered 
through the record of their reigns, or by the meagre 
and often incongruous summaries of qualities which 
precede or conclude the narrative of each reign. 
Though something has been done in this direction 
in the case of particular Kings, I am not aware of 
any previous attempt having been made, on the plan 
here pursued, to present a complete series of personal 
delineations of our Princes from the Norman Con- 
quest. Such delineations are of more significance 



Vlil PEEFACE. 

and value as elements of National history in the 
case of England than in that of most countries, in 
consequence of the personal ability of the great 
majority of our Kings, and the close cooperation of 
King and People implied in the Spirit of the English 
Constitution. 

There must be necessarily some appearance of 
dogmatism in a work in which conclusions alone 
are stated ; so I have endeavoured, wherever space 
would allow, to suggest the considerations which led 
to the conclusions, or to illustrate the views put 
forward by corroborative facts. This was, of course 
possible much more in the earlier than in the later 
' Estimates ; ' but I do not think that any Estimate 
will be found to be simply dogmatic. Though any at- 
tempt of this kind must as yet be, to a certain extent, 
tentative and provisional, the positive judgments here 
embodied have not been hastily formed ; and I have 
little expectation that they will be materially modi- 
fied by future historical investigation. At any rate 
their definite exposition will facilitate their correc- 
tion by other historical students, and so contribute to 
form a more settled public judgment. 

In availing myself of the best aids afforded by 
previous writers, I have not adopted the conclusions 
of any without thoroughly considering the grounds 



PEEFACE. IX 

on which they seemed to rest ; and, as a consequence, 
I do not think that my view of any King's character 
will be fonnd quite identical with that taken by any 
preceding writer, though it would imply absurd arro- 
gance on my part if a greater or less similarity were 
not found in the great majority of the Estimates to 
the general tone of the conclusions of some other 
writer. A specific enumeration of authorities in a 
work of this description is impossible, but I may 
mention here a few of the writers to whom I am 
under the greatest obligations. Besides older stan- 
dard historians, such as Hallam, Lingard, and Sharon 
Turner, I owe much to Mr. Freeman, Dr. Lappenberg, 
Mr. Pearson, Sir E. Creasy, Mr. Froude, DeanHooke, 
Mr. S. E. Gardiner, Lord Macaulay, Lord Stanhope, 
Mr. Massey, and (not least) Sir Erskine May. Quite 
as much am I indebted to the various editors of the 
volumes issued under the authority of the Master of 
the Eolls and of the Camden Society : — in particular 
to Mr. Walter Shirley, Mr. Hingeston, Mr. Stubbs, 
Mr. Eiley, Mr. Mchols, Mr. Halliwell, Mr. Cole, Mr. 
James Gairdner, Professor Brewer, and the late Mr. 
John Bruce. Other authorities I have referred to in 
the ' Estimates ' themselves ; but I must not here omit 
Sir H. Nicholas' 'Introduction to the Proceedings 
of the Privy Council,' the volume on Tudor Legisla 



x PREFACE. 

tion by the late Mr. Amos, tlie works of Mr. Luders 
and Mr. Tyler on the early life of Henry the Fifth, 
and Mr. W . D. Christie's Life of Lord Shaftesbury. 
For the reign of Charles the First and the Common- 
wealth, with which my own studies have made me 
most familiar, I have naturally relied more entirely 
on my own researches. 

The 'Estimates' have been revised throughout, 
and a few additions and omissions made which 
seemed desirable. 

J. L. S. 

Athkn-^um Club: August 9. 1872. 



CONTENTS 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR ' 


1 


WILLIAM ' RUFUS ' 


21 


HENRY THE FIRST 


34 


STEPHEN AND MATILDA 


46 


HENRY THE SECOND . 


57 


RICHARD THE FIRST . ' . 


71 


JOHN ....... 


84 


HENRY THE THIRD . . . . 


93 


EDWARD THE FIRST . 


103 


EDWARD THE SECOND . . . . 


. 120 


EDWARD THE THIRD . 


131 


BICHARD THE SECOND . 


. 145 


HENRY THE FOURTH . 


156 


HENRY THE FIFTH . 


. 173 


HENRY THE SIXTH . 


. 191 



Xll 



CONTENTS. 



EDWARD THE FOURTH 
RICHARD THE THIRD 
HENRY THE SEVENTH 
HENRY THE EIGHTH 
EDWARD THE SIXTH 
MARY 

ELIZABETH . 
JAMES THE FIRST 
CHARLES THE FIRST 
OLIVER, LORD PROTECTOR 
RICHARD, LORD PROTECTOR 
CHARLES THE SECOND 
JAMES THE SECOND 
WILLIAM AND MARY 
ANNE 

GEORGE THE FIRST 
GEORGE THE SECOND 
GEORGE THE THIRD 



ESTIMATES 



OF THE 



ENGLISH KINGS 



WILLIAM 'TEE CONQUEROR. 9 

There are many peculiar difficulties attending any 
attempt to draw the character of a King, but none 
greater than that which arises from his isolated 
position. This isolation has often been pointed out 
as one of the characteristics of Royalty, but we doubt 
if sufficient allowance has been made for it as an 
exceptional element in estimating the mental and 
moral calibre of Princes. We acknowledge that 
they stand alone, and in a vague manner we re- 
cognise that this fact ought to some extent to modify 
our estimate of their character ; but we fail to make 
this modification in our actual estimate, because 
we have not sufficiently realised in detail the nature 
of this exceptional plea, and therefore are unable 
to give effect to it in regard to special points of 

i B 



2 ESTIMATES OF tHK ENGLISH KINGS. 

character. We say, in a general manner, that Kings 

are not like other men, and that they must not be 
judged by exactly the same rules, but we Jo in fact 
judge them, both for good and evil, in much the 
same way as ordinary mortals, and the* significance of 
our vague deprecatory plea is almost entirely lost in 
the specific panegyric or denunciation which is based 
on our common moral experience. I cannot hope in 
the present series of estimates of Royal persons 
entirely to remedy this defect in criticism : but, 
perhaps, something may be achieved in this direction 
by a few preliminary remarks, and by keeping 1 this 
peculiarity well in view in exhibiting eaeh of the 
distinctive points of eharaeter. 

A King. then, is removed by his peculiar position 
alike from the support of private friendship, the eon- 
trolling intluenee of habitual responsibility to the 
law, and the habitual safeguard of authorised 
criticism. In his own country he has no fellow. — in 
his own family he has no equal, — and among the 
Princes of other countries he may find a similarity of 
position, but never an identity of interests. There 
can be no real reciprocity with him. either in 
thought or feeling. If he seek to indulge his 
affections, the difference and inadequacy of any 
return that can be attempted by their object must 
tend to degrade the act to favouritism. If the 
feeling displayed is of a more subdued and intellee-| 
tual type, it cannot ascaj fchc sharactei 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR.' 3 

patronage. Whether a wrong be resented, in word 
or deed, or passed over with a gentle rebuke or 
patient forgiveness, the course adopted can never 
have a merely personal character and a personal re- 
sponsibility. It will always be more or less a public 
act, liable to be judged by other considerations than 
those of persona] feelings. The act is always too 
significant, either for good or the reverse. The 
multitude of indifferent and insignificant acts which 
constitute the greatest part of the lives of ordinary 
men cannot exist as such with a King. He has 
always a representative and official character. He 
cannot act as a private individual, and what is more, 
he can never think as such. His whole view of life 
and men is affected by this fact. He always looks 
at other men and at the characteristics of society ah 
extra. He cannot accurately appreciate the personal 
motives of individuals within that society, or perceive 
and estimate the gathering forces of society during 
their noiseless formation. Even if his intellect is of 
moderate calibre, he estimates generally far better 
than any ordinaiw individual the significance and re- 
lations to the history of the world of the external 
features of society, and of palpable results. If he 
is a man of superior intellect, he may index and 
summarise the progress of events, and look forward 
towards great ends from far distant premises. He is 
not lost in details or led astray by inferior objects. 
He is naturally the best critic of society as a whole, 

B 2 



4 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

and so, as far as its corporate action is concerned, he 
has to a great degree a prophetic power as to the 
course of events. But, like the philosophers of 
social science in modern times, who base everything 
in history on statistics and the theory of probabilities, 
his prognostications are frequently belied by the 
eccentricities of personal character, and the unseen 
agencies which are operating within the heart of 
society. He is always peculiarly subject to surprises, 
and is frequently censured for judicial blindness to 
leelings and movements which have never come 
within his ken. What he has gained in breadth of 
vision by being removed from the internal conflicts 
of society, he has lost in the forecasts of coming 
events which the daily action of informing opinion 
brings to the minds of ordinary members of that 
society. If he is enlightened at all on such points it 
can never be from his own experience, but from the 
information of others, and he must always have the 
additional task and responsibility of estimating the 
value of this information with very imperfect 
materials for his judgment. How is the enlightened 
warning of the true prophet to be distinguished in 
such cases from the interested misrepresentation of 
selfish ambition ? 

Another of the results of this terrible isolation of 
Royalty is that a King can hardly be otherwise than 
selfish, — using the term in its widest and least 
'nvidious sense. Unselfishness is based on sympathy, 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR.' 5 

and his sympathy must be more or less imperfect, 
for the difficulty of realising the position and feelings 
of others must be in his case vastly increased ; and 
self-sacrifice, which is always to some extent involved 
in the true act of sympathy, is with him almost 
impossible. His position requires him always to 
think of himself in the first place, and however noble 
may be the real nature of the man, and however 
kindly and generous his natural instincts, the con- 
ditions of his life must warp his disposition, and 
make him (often quite unconsciously), in howe\er 
slight a degree, postpone the feelings of others to his 
own wishes and necessities. To judge a man thus 
placed as we should other men, and to pass on his 
acts the decided and unreserved sentence of con- 
demnation which would be justly called forth in thei:. 
case, is therefore manifestly unjust. There is a 
sense, indeed, higher than is conveyed by the vulgar 
doctrine of Right Divine, in which Kings can be only 
responsible to God, — for the laws of justice, as 
applicable to other men, cannot fairly be applied to 
them ; and it is some confused feeling of this virtual 
immunity from ordinary law which has given rise, no 
doubt, to the popular superstition as to the divinity 
which hedges in a King. 

Where the actions of a King are not extreme 
either for good or evil, the considerations arising 
from these peculiarities of his position must render 
any decided opinion on his real character very 



6 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

difficult. In most cases, however, the balance is so 
much inclined one way or the other, that the allow- 
ance to be made for his peculiar position will not 
affect the general positive result, and we may speak 
with some decision as to the main features of his 
character, without incurring" much danger of doing 
injustice either to him or to the truth. 

The special conditions of the life of Kings are, of 
course, externally at least, greatly modified by the 
differing circumstances of time and place. The 
Eastern despot and the absolute and constitutional 
princes of the West must have, necessarily, inherent 
differences of consciousness and corresponding grades 
of responsibility. But fundamentally, the same 
stern laws of isolation exist with respect to all, 
whenever the position they hold is a permanent one, 
and whenever they form part of a distinct Royal 
caste. So also with respect to the conditions im- 
posed by the successive stages of civilisation in 
national life. In earlier and ruder times there 
must be less mystery and more self-assertion in the 
Kingly office, and the Royal status may be so pre- 
carious and brief in its tenure that the incidents of 
a separate caste may scarcely attach to it, and in 
periods of transition from one stage of society to 
another, when the old foundations are overthrown, 
and there has been no time to consolidate the new 
- — where Founders of dynasties and systems take the 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR.' 7 

place of a Royal caste and of a traditionary status, 
the conditions of this isolation must be materially 
affected. But the position of a Founder, or, as the 
old lawyers called him, a Conquestor or Conqueror, 
while it implies something- more and something less 
than that of an ordinary hereditary King, does not 
imply the non-existence of the social conditions of a 
caste. He may have emerged from conditions of life 
differing very widely from those of his new position, 
and he will always possess on that account an immunity 
from some at least of the disabilities which enter into 
the Royal isolation ; but he will also be more pro- 
foundly impressed by the specialities of his new life, the 
weight and burden of which will be doubly felt from 
their novelty, and the close bondage of which will 
force itself all the more keenly on his perception, 
because he must ever be on his guard against any 
relaxation of this self-imposed restraint. To pass 
into a life of isolation must be more painful than to 
be born into and grow up in it, and some of the 
characteristics of which we have spoken may become 
even exaggerated in the actuating feelings of a 
Founder, The problem of character is in his case 
more complicated and more interesting, but much at 
least of the speciality of Royalty must enter into the 
rationale of its solution. It will generally be a 
strong man who can acquire such a position as that 
of the ancestor of a line of Kings ; it must be a still 
stronger man who can endure this changed life, and 



8 ESTIMATES OF TIIE ENGLISH KINGS. 

preserve through, it some stamp, however faint, of 
moral greatness ; and such a man, conceding the 
worst that has been said against him, was William 
the Bastard, the Founder or Conqueror of the 
Anglo-Norman Monarclry. He was not a good man, 
and, with all his success, he was not a happy man ; 
but he was too great a man to be an absolutely 
wicked man, and the awe with which he inspired all 
around him was saved from becoming hate by a 
mastering consciousness of the presence of something 
good in his nature and a suspicion of possible good 
in his ultimate purpose. If I can give my readers 
any clearer idea of the character of such a man, they 
and I may go beyond or differ from his contempo- 
raries in the minute analysis of his character ; but 
we shall certainly not exceed them, or find our- 
selves at variance with them in their half-avowed 
instincts of it as a whole. 

The details of the early life of William the 
Bastard are wrapped in considerable obscurity, but 
the leading points of the story are beyond dispute. 
He was the son of Robert, Duke, or rather Count, of 
Normandy, who was the second son of the great- 
grandson of the legendary founder of the dukedom 
of countship — Hrolfr, Rolf, or Rollo. It is also 
certain that he was a base-born child in more than 
the ordinary sense of the term. His mother, 
variously called Harlette, Herleva, or Arlette, was 
the daughter of a tanner of Falaise. The social 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR.' 9 

impediment in the minds of the great men of 
Normandy to the succession of William to his father's 
seat could hardly have been the fact of his being 
born out of wedlock, for illegitimacy was not the 
exception, but the rule, in the House of Eollo. No 
adequate explanation has yet been given of the 
intensity of the feeling against William' s illegitimacy, 
though the position of a tanner was probably pecu- 
liarly low and socially degrading. We know too little 
of the feelings of those times, and of the particulars 
of Count Robert's relations with Harlette, to enable 
us to understand the exact nature of the feeling- 
outraged by William's succession. But we know 
that it was violently and indignantly scornful among 
high and low in the more Teutonic and Norse 
portion of his dominions, and that nothing could 
have saved the child from destruction but very 
skilful management on the part of his guardians 
(backed, perhaps, by a recollection of the personal 
popularity of Robert), the discord and mutual 
jealousies among his cousins of the Ducal House 
and of the conflicting races of Normandy, and,, 
perhaps, the general preference among the turbulent 
barons for a minority rather than the strong govern- 
ment of a prince of mature age. William, then, was 
exposed from the first to' a storm of social obloquy,, 
and deprived of the peculiar prestige and advantages 
of the ruling caste, within which he was nevertheless 
included, and to whose destiny of solitude he was at 



10 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the same time subjected. He was, therefore, from 
the first thrown back on personal resources and 
the peculiarities of his own mind. The social ex- 
communication against which he was always strug- 
gling placed him to some extent from the first in 
what I have endeavoured to explain as the peculiar 
position of a Founder, with the important difference, 
however, that instead of trying to secure his intro- 
duction into the Sovereign caste, he was striving to 
prevent his exclusion from it, and that consequently 
the basis of his pretensions was a presumptive status, 
not an acquired authority. His feelings must have 
been akin to those of an heir whose legitimate 
succession was imperilled, rather than those of an 
aspirant whose claims were disputed. The stain of 
his birth may have given him some greater percep- 
tion of the life of common men than falls to the lot 
of purely legitimate princes, but as far as his disposi- 
tion was affected by it, it would enhance rather than 
'diminish the caste feeling within him. From the 
few facts preserved to us, he seems to have led from 
his cradle a life of hairbreadth escapes and constant 
anxiety. When his strong, skilful hand was first felt 
at the helm, and hoiv he guided the course of the 
vessel, is really quite unknown. We find him first 
an almost helpless and hopeless boy, surrounded 
with enemies ; and next, as a calm, self-assured 
ruler, crushing insurrection at home, and not only 
maintaining himself against foreign princes, but 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR.' 11 

making himself respected and dreaded by them. At 
Val-es-Dunes he made use of the House of Capet to 
-crush the insurgent Norse or Teutonic chieftains 
of the Cotentin and the old Saxon Shore about 
Bayeaux ; and then he beat back and humbled the 
French King by employing against him this once 
rebellious array. Men seemed to be compelled to do 
his will, apart from and even against their own 
interests. JSTor was it over men of feeble hands and 
poor intellects that this ascendancy of William's was 
gained. He triumphed over fierce races, who to the 
last fretted under his rule, but who were drawn 
irresistibly in the wake of his successful career ; and 
over strong, self-willed men, who were compelled to 
follow him because he made this the only path to 
their personal aggrandisement. He never identi- 
fied his own personal interests with those of any 
man or any connection, but he compelled these to 
identify themselves with his objects. His attitude 
was the same in this respect both in State and 
Church. The Church served him well in some of 
his greatest needs, and it was always a powerful 
political instrument in his hands. He rewarded it 
richly, he endeavoured to raise its character, and 
aggrandised it, by making its machinery more 
effective for great ends. But even Hildebrand did 
not dare to more than faintly urge on this generous 
son of the Church ecclesiastical pretensions which 
would have inverted their relative positions, and 



12 ESTIMATES OF. THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

made the Pope the patron instead of the patronised. 
He held his dominions from (rod, and by his own 
sword, was the sharp retort of William, and the 
great ruler of the Church, before whom the rest 
of Catholic Europe had been made to bow in implicit 
deference, patiently acquiesced in this curt refusal. 
William sought in all directions for wise counsellors 
and able agents of his policy, but he never allowed 
any one to make himself necessary to his service or 
an irremovable support to his throne. The most 
dangerous competitor against whom he was ever 
pitted was perhaps the strong-hearted and crafty 
son of Godwine, yet the battle of Hastings was but 
the culmination of a series of intellectual defeats 
which he had inflicted on the greatest of the Saxons. 
William's claims on the English Crown were of the 
most worthless character, and his partisans in 
England of the most insignificant value in point of 
numbers and influence. Harold was little, if at all, 
inferior to the Norman as a soldier ; he had a strong 
hold on the affections of a considerable portion of 
the English nation, and he was certainly preferred 
by the great majority in the island to the Norman 
invader. Yet William had routed him thoroughly 
in the moral opinion of Europe before he vanquished 
him on the battle-field, and the paralysis of the 
Anglo-Saxon energies which opened up the con- 
quest of England to William was due far more to 
the skilful manipulation by the Norman of the pre- 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR.' 13 

liminaries of the contest, than to any distraction 
of forces caused by a double invasion in the north 
and south, or even any divisions of race. Though 
there was scarcely ever a Sovereign whose actions 
were more strictly personal in their character 
than William's, there was no one who managed 
more completely to give them an aspect of legal and 
social authority. His most violent acts of personal 
revenge and ruthless fury never seem to have struck 
his contemporaries in the same light as did the 
atrocities of the men among whom he lived. Either 
there was a purpose evident to them and not to us 
which relieved their revolting features, or the man 
himself had become to them an institution rather 
than an individual, and they accepted his acts as a 
necessity of his and their existence rather than as 
an expression of personal motives on his part. The 
necessities of his early career had made him an 
assertor of order, and the isolation of his own 
interests had made him, as respects the mutual 
relations of other men, a comparatively impartial 
administrator. His long-enduring patience (engen- 
dered also by his early necessities), and yet his 
uncompromising fierceness in enforcing his ultimate 
decisions, had something of the slowness and sure- 
ness of fate, and impressed even the sufferers with 
only an uncertain sense of oppression. He was 
eminently a Founder, for he really laid the founda- 
tion and shaped the general outline of the "subsequent 



14 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

social and political life of England ; but lie possessed 
the peculiarity of great Founders of never making 
himself in outward profession the ultimate source of 
these institutions. They professed to be little more 
than adaptations of earlier codes to the wants and 
necessities of the existing age. Thus he secured 
an indefinite amount of traditional authority for 
what would otherwise have been criticised with all 
the keenness attaching to personal responsibility. 
Though everybody and everything felt the impress of 
his personal action and will, he never appeared but 
as the promulgator of the legislation of Alfred and 
Edward the Confessor. While he never allowed 
anything or anybody to interfere with his personal 
will or to dispute his personal position, he was 
entirely free from the poor vanity of weaker self- 
willed men— of parading their personal pretensions 
and abilities. 

Perhaps, even with our imperfect knowledge, some 
mitigating or explanatory points may be discerned 
in the worst actions of the Conqueror, which may 
redeem them from the charge of blind fury or 
deliberate malignity. Whatever may have been the 
amount of injustice inflicted by him on individuals — 
and it would be going very far indeed to assert his 
justice or wisdom in these instances — it is a fact that 
not one of those whose cases have met with most 
commiseration and excited most indignation against 
him can come forward with a clean and unblemished 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEROR.* 15 

reputation. There is always a considerable possibi- 
lity if not of probability that they were in the wrong* 
also in the cause for which they suffered. This may 
have been William's good fortune or his policy, but 
it must have made all the difference in the estimate- 
formed by contemporaries of the justice or injustice 
of his conduct. Whatever our patriotic sympathies 
and our hatred of oppression, it is not easy to pin 
one's faith on the probity of such men as Waltheof, 
the chiefs of the house of Leofric, or the great 
Norman barons who experienced the vengeance or 
justice of William. Men talked suspiciously of the 
death of Conan of Brittany, but modern criticism 
has thrown great doubt on the imputation that he 
was poisoned by the Norman prince. The atrocious 
cruelties on the inhabitants of Alencon are quite 
indefensible, but were not exceptional cruelties in 
those days, and had a strong provocation and pro- 
bably a political motive. The desolation of the 
Northern counties of England was a great crime, 
but it was also a political act of defence against 
Scandinavia and Scotland, and may imply much less 
of conscious malignity and have proceeded from less 
cruelty of disposition than we should at first conceive. 
The Northumbrians, rude and wild in their acts as 
they were, had a vivid and deep-rooted attachment 
to a former state of things — an attachment unto 
death to a traditionary system quite apart from that 
into which the Conqueror was reorganising England; 



16 ESTIMATES OF. THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

and the Northumbrians, though far. nobler in them- 
selves than many other of the opponents whom he 
-encountered, were destroyed by him because they 
were quite incompatible with his ascendancy in 
England. 

There are personal relations which, however 
modified by the peculiar position of Kings, still even 
in their case give us a greater insight into the man 
than anything else possibly can. A marriage, in- 
deed, may be a merely conventional form, and the 
relations between husband and wife may differ little 
from the other ceremonial apparatus of royalty, but 
•even a King's relations with his children must always 
give us some insight into his natural disposition. 
If no one is a hero to his own valet, few, if any, can 
be altogether mere impersonations of law and will to 
their own children. The province of the legislator 
stops here, — the arm of the administrator is arrested 
and something of the individual feelings, though 
often but little of the intellectual sagacity, of the 
man is here made apparent. But we do not care 
about a display of intellect here, when that is so 
strongly marked in other relations. In an age of 
gross dissoluteness, it is now understood that Wil- 
liam stands unimpugned in the point of conjugal 
-fidelity. It is also held to be established by evidence 
that he was not only fortunate in, but happy with, 
his wife, Matilda of Flanders. Of those sons who 
alone played any public part, it is known that Robert, 



WILLIAM 'THE CONQUEKOK,' 17 

the eldest, was least the favourite of his father, and 
that the affections of the latter were concentrated 
on William and Henry. Unlike many strong 
fathers, then, he did not prefer the weaker nature in 
his sons. But neither can it be said that he was 
•substantially unjust to that weaker son. Young 
[Robert, indeed, rose in rebellion again and again, 
-on the specious plea that the government of Nor- 
mandy was kept out of his hands, after it had been, 
implicitly at least, promised to him. But no one 
will blame William's conduct in this respect who 
sees how the character of the vain, frivolous prince 
developed itself; and the repeated forgiveness which 
he extended to him had much of the contemptuous 
pity and forbearance of his treatment of Edgar, the 
Anglo-Saxon Etheling, and contrasts with his firm- 
ness on the main point in which the interest of the 
:State was concerned. 

To conclude — the reserve and suspicion of others 
fostered in William by his early trials led him to 
keep his thoughts, and plans, and reasons for his 
actions within his own breast ; and as he made no 
confidants, and explained himself to no one, it is not 
surprising that his motives were frequently mis- 
construed, even where there was a latent feeling that 
his administration was not fundamentally unjust. 
This makes it almost impossible to harmonise what 
contemporary critics assert against him with what 
they admit in his favour, and the praise and the 

o 



18 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

blame seem alike arbitrary. Yet, perhaps, with all 
this inconsistency, and want of comprehensiveness in 
grasp, there has never been a more impressive cha- 
racter drawn of a conqueror by one of the conquered 
than that by the contemporary Anglo-Saxon chroni- 
cler of William the Bastard ; and modern philosophy, 
though it may attempt to solve some of the psycho- 
logical riddles which it presents, can add nothing 
to the reality of its life-like touches. c If any one 
desires to know what kind of man he was,' says the 
chronicler, c or what worship he had, or of how many 
lands he was lord, then we will write of him so as 
we understood him, who have looked on him, and at 
another time sojourned in his Court. The King 
William about whom we speak was a very wise man, 
and very powerful, more dignified and strong than 
any of his predecessors were. He was mild to the 
good men who loved God; and over all measure 
severe to the men who gainsayed his will. On the 
same stead on which God granted him. that he might 
subdue England, he raised a noble monastery, and 
there placed monks, and well endowed it. In his 
days was the noble monastery at Canterbury built, 
and also very many others over all England. The 
land was also plentifully supplied with monks, and 
they lived their lives after the rule of St. Benedict. 
And in his day Christianity was such that every 
man who could followed what belonged to his con- 
dition. He was also very dignified; thrice every 



WILLIAM 'THE . CONQUEROK.' 19 

year lie bare his crown as oft as he was in 
England. At Easter he bare it in Winchester; at 
Pentecost in Westminster ; at midwinter in Glouces- 
ter. And there were with him all the great men 
over all England, archbishops and suffragan bishops, 
abbots and earls, thanes and knights. So was he 
also a very rigid and cruel man, so that no one durst 
do anything against his will. He had earls in his 
bonds, who had acted against his will ; bishops he 
cast from their bishoprics, and abbots from their 
abbaies, and thanes into prison, and at last he spared 
not his own brother, named Odo. . . . Among other 
things, is not to be forgotten the good peace that he 
made in this land ; so that a man who in himself 
was aught might go over his realm with his bosom 
full of gold unhurt. Nor durst any man slay another 
man, had he done ever so great evil to the other. 
He reigned over England, and by his sagacity so 
thoroughly surveyed it, that there was not a hide of 
land within England that he knew not who had it, 
and what it was worth, and afterwards set it in his 
writ. . . . Certainly in his time men had great 
hardship and very many injuries. Castles he caused 
to be made, and poor men to be greatly oppressed. 
The King was very rigid, and took from his subjects 
many a mark of gold, and more hundred pounds of 
silver, which he took by right and with great unright 
from his people, for little need. He had fallen into 
covetousness., and altogether loved greediness. He 



20 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

planted a great preserve for deer, and he laid down 
laws therewith, that whosoever should slay hart or 
hind should be blinded. He forbade the harts and 
also the boars to be killed. As greatly did he love 
the tall deer as if he were their father. He also 
ordained concerning the hares that they should go 
free. His great men bewailed it, and the poor men 
murmured thereat ; but he was so obdurate that he 
recked not of the hatred of them all ; but they must 
closely follow the King's will, if they would live or 
have land or property, or even his peace. Alas ! 
that any man should be so proud, and raise himself 
up, and account himself above all men ! May the 
Almighty God show mercy to his soul, and grant 
him forgiveness of his sins ! These things we have 
written concerning him, both good and evil, that 
good men may imitate their goodness, and wdiolly 
flee from the evil, and go in the way that leads us to 
the kingdom of heaven.' 



21 



WILLIAM 'RUFUS.' 

The sons of a Founder, if more favoured generally 
than lie was in the starting-part of their career, are 
also exposed to some disadvantages. If their position 
has been to a great extent made for them, it by no 
means follows that the task of retaining it will be an 
easy one ; and the comparison with their predecessor 
will in most cases be disadvantageously invidious to 
their abilities. If it takes three generations to make 
a gentleman, it certainly takes quite as long to render 
a sovereignty assured. Barety, too, is genius heredi- 
tary in an immediately succeeding generation, and 
even where it is at all equal in amount, it is usually 
very dissimilar in character ; the result being that 
contemporaries miss the sort of ability to which they 
have been accustomed more than they appreciate that 
which they have newly acquired. And the circum- 
stances of the case forbid that the conditions under 
which the character and disposition of the Founder 
were formed or modified should be the same with his 
successor, even were that character and disposition 
originally cast in the same mould. Thus it may be 



22 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

possible that had the positions of the father and son 
been reversed, the character which developed itself in 
each might have been reversed also. In the instance 
before us, this could scarcely have been the case, but 
there was nevertheless a strong family likeness 
between the Conqueror and his second surviving son, 
William. This is partially admitted, even by those 
(and in the case of William Eufus there is no friendly 
exception) who decry him in every other respect. 
There was something of the same greatness of stamp 
— magnanimity, they phrased it — and of the same 
kingly self-reliance which eminently characterised 
the First William. On one occasion, while besieging 
his brother Henry in Mont St. Michel, being un- 
horsed by the bursting of the girths of his saddle, he 
exposed himself to great personal danger in securing 
it ; and when his knights jested with him on the 
inadequacy of the motive, 'By the holy face of Lucca, 5 
he replied, e one must be able to defend one's own ! 
It would be shameful to lose it as long as one could 
defend it. The Bretons would have bragged prettily 
with my saddle ! ' In another encounter he was 
unhorsed by a soldier, who was preparing to strike 
him, when William exclaimed, c Stop, rascal ! I am 
the King of England ! ' The soldiers, overawed, 
raised him from the ground, and brought him another 
horse. 'Which of you, 5 he cried, 'struck me down?' 
A soldier stood forward, and said, c It was I : I took 
you for a knight, not for the King.' To which 



"WILLIAM 'EUFUS.' 23 

William rejoined, ' By the holy face of Lucca, thou 
shalt henceforth be mine, and, entered on my roll, 
shalt receive the recompense of praiseworthy bravery.' 
When Helie of Maine fell into his hands, William 
said to him jestingly, e I have you, master ! ' To 
which Helie haughtily replied, ' You have taken me 
by chance ; if I could escape, I know what I would 
do.' At this, William, seizing Helie, exclaimed 
passionately, £ You scoundrel ! and what would you 
do ? Begone, depart, fly ! I give you leave to do 
whatever you can ; and by the holy face of Lucca, if 
you should conquer me, I will ask no return for this 
favour.' 'Nor,' continues William, the Monk of 
Malmesbury, ' did he falsify his word, but immediately 
suffered him to escape, rather admiring than following 
the fugitive.' Helie was not disarmed by the mag- 
nanimity of the King. He raised fresh forces, and 
pressed hard the siege of the city of Mans. William 
was in England, engaged in hunting when the news 
reached him. ' Unprepared as he was,' says William 
of Malmesbury, ' he turned his horse instantly, and 
shaped his journey to the sea. When his nobles 
reminded him that it would be necessary to call out 
his troops, and put them in array, " I shall see," said 
he, " who will follow me. Do } r ou think that I shall 
not have people enough ? If I know the temper of 
the young men of my kingdom, they will even brave 
shipwreck to come to me." In this manner he ar- 
rived, almost unattended, at the sea-coast. The sky 



24 ESTIMATES OF -THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

at that time was overcast, the wind contrary, and a 
tempest swept the surface of the deep. When he 
determined to embark directly, the sailors besought 
him to wait till the storm should subside and the 
wind be favourable. " Why," said William, " I have 
never heard of a King perishing by shipwreck ; no y 
weigh anchor immediately, and you shall see the 
elements conspire to obey me." When the report of 
his having crossed the sea reached the besiegers 
they hastily retreated.' c Who,' exclaims William of 
Malmesbury, 'could believe this of an unlettered man? 
And perhaps there may be some persons, who, from 
reading Lucau, may falsely suppose that William 
borrowed these examples from Julius Ccesar ; but he 
had neither inclination nor leisure to attend to 
learning; it was rather the innate warmth of his 
temper and his conscious valour which prompted him 
to such expressions.' After all, notwithstanding the 
monk's scorn of his ignorance, the pupil of Lanfranc 
may not have quite forgotten his old master's lessons 
from the Classics. 

Nor was William the Second inferior to his father 
in energy and strength of will. The Conqueror must 
have known this, or he would scarcely have committed 
to his charge the difficult task of sustaining the 
ascendancy of his dynasty in England. Normandy he 
was obliged by the force of public opinion there to leave 
to Eobert, but he doubtless felt that William, with 
the resources of England at his back, would ere long 



WILLIAM 'KUFUS.' 25* 

reunite the two principalities. Yet it was no easy 
task that he bequeathed to his second son. The 
separation of Normandy from England, while it in- 
flicted a severe blow on the pride of the Normans on 
both sides of the Channel, by restoring the indepen- 
dence of England, made the position of those who 
held lands in both countries very difficult and precari- 
ous. Their allegiance must in any case be a divided 
one, and in the probable event of a struggle between 
the two brothers, their possessions on one side of the 
Channel or the other were sure to be, at first at any 
rate, confiscated by him whom they opposed. The 
Anglo-Norman barons, too, were very different in 
their status in England, when they lived there as- 
foreign conquerors, with homes and resources in a 
foreign land, from what they became when they had 
to rely on their own resources, and hold their own 
as they best could, as one among several rival races 
which inhabited the same island, and which might 
be balanced or neutralised by a combination of the 
others with the Executive. So during nearly the 
whole of his reign Eufus had to contend for his life 
as well as his throne against incessant conspiracies 
of the Norman barons, and it was only by the aid of 
the Anglo-Danish population, and by carrying the 
war into the Norman home of his rebellious vassals,. 
that he was able to maintain himself at all. But he 
did so, and not only crushed every rebellion at home 
and secured and enlarged his borders in the British 



26 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

island, but gradually ousted Robert from the posses- 
sion of Normandy itself, in defiance of the efforts 
of the French King and his allies in Anjou and Maine. 
The cession of the remainder of the duchy by Eobert 
for a sum of money restored the old state of things 
so far that the principalities were reunited under one 
rule ; but there was the important difference, that it 
was now a King of England who had annexed 
Normandy, instead of a Duke of Normandy having 
conquered England. As with his father, neither 
king, nor noble, nor race could stand against Rufus's 
will. His able brother Henry tried his hand against 
him, but failed. His Norman, barons found they were 
not an essential basis of his authority. His Anglo- 
Danish subjects found they were used by the King as 
instruments against their common enemies, but had 
gained nothing but a restored sense of national dignity. 
As a class they were as oppressed and degraded as 
-ever. The Church shared the fate of the State. 
The bishops either became his pliant tools, or were 
-compelled to abandon the field to him. The Court 
of Rome had to conciliate him, and waive its pre- 
tensions, just as in the case of his father. Here 
were strength and energy and success enough, one 
would think, to constitute a great prince in the eyes 
of his contemporaries. Yet we do not find the idea 
•of greatness attaching itself to the memory of William 
Rufns, as ifc did to that of his father; and though as 
much feared and more hated, he was never in the 



WILLIAM 'EUFUS.' 27 

1 
1 same manner respected. While, in the case of the 

Conqueror, admiration and awe swallowed up hatred, 

in the case of Eufus admiration and fear were 

absorbed in a loathing antipathy. Considering the 

general standard of morals at that time, there is 

nothing specifically told of Eufus which can in itself 

account for the horror which he seems to have 

inspired. We know, indeed, that there was no love 

lost between him and the monks, and that the latter 

in their chronicles brought out his vices in strong 

relief, instead of softening and brightening the 

picture, as in their characters of other persons who 

were benefactors of the Church. Eufus hated the 

monks, and, while lavish of his money, gave the 

monasteries little or nothing, and they in return 

chronicled his vices in full; but such men as the 

Monk of Malmesbury and Ordericus Yitalis were not 

wilful calumniators, and they have probably told us 

little that ( is not true, though their account is a 

spitefully minute register of evil. William evidently 

did inspire them, and most of his contemporaries, 

with an overpowering feeling of something transcend - 

antly evil. What, then, were the sources of this 

peculiar antipathy ? 

In the first place, the administration of Eufus, 

though firm and, as a whole, self-consistent, had all 

the character in its specific acts of personal violence 

and irregularity. The King could will great ends, 

and achieve them as completely as the greatest ad- 



28 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

ministrator could have done, but lie could not act 
with sustained dignity. His nature really lacked the 
solidity and substance of that of his father. Even a 
kingly bearing did not seem to be inherent in hini ? 
but only an occasional or assumed feature. There 
was something strange and eccentric in his appear- - 
ance, which might alarm but did not impress men. ! 
He was strongly built, though not tall, and somewhat 
corpulent. To his florid complexion and yellow hair 
he is indebted for his epithet of Rufus. His counten- 
ance was open ; but he * had different- coloured eyes, 
varying with certain glittering specks,' and he hesi- 
tated much in speaking, especially when angry. His 
strange, staring, yet uncertain expression was aggra- 
vated by a trick which he had, when abroad or in 
public assemblies, of putting on ' a supercilious look, 
darting his threatening eye on the bystanders, and 
with assumed severity and ferocious voice assailing* 
such as conversed with him.' While he was thus 
playing the stage-tyrant in public, he often lowered 
his real dignity in private by another practice. ' At 
home and at table with his intimate companions, he 
gave loose to levity and to mirth. He was a most 
facetious railer at anything he had himself done 
amiss, in order that he might thus do away obloquy 
and make it matter of jest.' If I am correct in my 
conjecture, with a jealous pride in his royal position, 
he fretted more than most princes at the isolation 
and monotony of royalty. Naturally an insouciant 



WILLIAM 'KUFUS.' 29 

man of the world, of considerable personal ability, 
with a keen sense of the ridiculous and a thorough 
contempt for the conventional, strong sensual pas- 
sions, a craving for unrestrained social intercourse, 
and considerable personal vanity, he felt himself 
checked at every point by the necessities and 
trammels of his royal position, and sought relief for 
this unendurable restraint in eccentricity and buf- 
foonery. How far he was really unlike other men, 
and to what extent his opinions and his views really 
went, it is impossible to say, for there can be no doubt 
that he took pleasure in exaggerating his natural 
tendencies, and in outraging and shocking all the pro- 
prieties of decent society and common-place men. 
He wished to give the impression of originality and 
independence, but the outside world, both the foolish 
and the wise, resented the outrage on their feelings 
or the insult to their understanding. With all the 
pride of royalty, he was wanting in its reserve and 
decorum, and society outside resented his intrusion 
into the private sphere as a swaggerer and a jester. 
His acts lost the prestige and weight of the imper- 
sonal administrator, and were criticised and resented 
as the fancies of an individual. To make up for this 
want of inherent authority, he had to call to his aid 
an increased amount of severity and violence, and he 
threw into this all the peculiarities and eccentricities 
of his own character. His acts were often conceived 
in the spirit of a King, but they were carried out in 



30 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the personal fashion of William Eufus. So, while by 
a strong will he generally accomplished his purpose, 
he left behind him a sense of outraged law and of 
personal injustice. 

Closely connected with the preceding peculiarity, ■ 
and partly explaining and partly explained by it, is 
his freedom of thought and speech on points on which j 
even the present age is nervously sensitive. To say j 
that William Eufus was an unbeliever in God and 
religion would be probably going too far, but he ; 
certainly looked on them in a manner quite different 
from all the conventional ideas of the age. I have 
little doubt there was much of similar free-thinking 
among the great nobles of his time, but the royal 
isolation of William made it possible to realise and 
avow these sentiments in a manner which was im- 5 
possible for any member of society at large. I have 
no doubt he believed thoroughly in the existence and 
power of God, — beyond this he probably believed I 
nothing. He had a thorough hatred and contempt 
for all the human apparatus of religion, and was dis- 
posed to stand on his own rights as King and Man 
even against Deity itself. He acknowledged that he 
was responsible to God, if to no one else ; but he had 
also a curious feeling of the responsibility of God 
Himself to certain paramount rules of justice and 
injustice, to which they both owed allegiance. Per- 
haps he regarded God as his Suzerain, just as he 
himself was the Suzerain of his great nobles, and 



WILLIAM 'KUFUS.' 31 

they again the immediate lords of their own vassals. 
But his Suzerain must not do him wrong, any more 
than he ought to do wrong to that Suzerain. This 
may sound very like impiety to many, but to Eufus 
it probably really meant something very different, 
though doubtless he took a malicious but foolish 
pleasure in enunciating it in the most offensive form, 

I in order to horrify both clerk and layman. He looked 
upon virtue or abstinence from vice as a sort of feudal 

'I aid due by him to God as his Suzerain, and to be 

i withheld if he had cause of grievance against Him, 
and had renounced temporarily his allegiance, as it 
was to be evaded as much as possible in the ordinary 
state of things. When during a severe illness he was 
led through the fear of death to choose an Arch- 

' bishop, he chose the one who appeared to be forced 
on him by the hand of God, and whom he regarded 
as the nominee of his irresistible Suzerain ; but he 

i resented the necessity and the imposition all the 
same, and when the danger was over, and the zealous 
but injudicious Archbishop urged on him to live more 
in conformity with the will of God, his strange creed 

I broke forth in the startling rejoinder, — c Hear, Bishop ? 

j by the holy face of Lucca, the Lord shall find no good 
one in me for all the evil He has inflicted on me ! ' 
After this we read without surprise that William said 
(in jest, the pious monk of Malmesbury tried to be- 
lieve), that if the Jews mastered the Christian Bishops 
in open argument he would become one of their seeL 



•32 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

"'The question, therefore,' continues the chronicler, 
' was agitated with much apprehension on the part of 
the bishops and clergy, fearful through pious anxiety 
for the Christian faith. From this contest, however, 
the Jews reaped nothing but confusion ; though they 
used repeatedly to boast that they were vanquished 
not by argument, but by power.' 

A man who could talk thus of God, and could act 
thus with regard to the Jews, might well inspire a 
peculiar horror in clergy and laymen alike. Cer- 
tainly, however, if he chose to convert his illness and 
the consequent choice of Anselm as Archbishop of 
Canterbury into an act of oppression on the part of 
the Almighty, the King had some reason in the years 
that followed to deplore his constrained act. !No 
greater act of penance and mortification of the spirit 
could he have inflicted on himself than he did in 
making such a man his yokefellow in the govern- 
ment of England. Anselm himself compared their 
coupling to that of a wild and untamed ox with a 
meek and powerless sheep ; but the King could have 
told a different story as to the inoffensiveness of the 
gentler animal. Any good man always at his side to 
admonish him must have been an annoyance to such 
a man as Eufus, but there is no good adviser so 
irritating as a mild and conscientious ecclesiastic, 
with a strong sense of his duty, an equally strong 
faculty of persistence and as little amount of delicacy 
and tact. He is too good and well-disposed a man 



WILLIAM 'KUFUS.' 83 

to be treated as an enemy ; he is too mild a man to 
be repulsed with violence ; he is too impersonal and 
representative a man to be quarrelled with as other 
men; he is a priest, and therefore thinks himself 
entitled to lay down the rule of right and wrong ; 
he is an officer of the Church, and therefore cannot 
believe himself to be mistaken. Never is the cause 
of virtue and right in greater peril than in such 
hands. In dealing with such a man vice may become 
only a form of self-assertion, and virtue an abnegation 
of self-respect and a badge of slavery. Such a 
monitor might provoke a saint; he will scarcely 
convert a sinner. And so William, the pupil of the 
statesman Lanfranc, became worse and worse under 
the spiritual admonitions of the priest Anselm, and 
the repulsion to his precepts outlasted the presence 
of the preceptor. Anselm retired to the Continent, 
in despair or exhaustion, from his long contest 
against both the vices and the laws of England ; but 
William continued to sink lower and lower in morality 
and self-respect, till an arrow in the New Forest — by 
whom or wherefore aimed has never been ascertained 
— put an end to the career of the strong-willed son of 
the Conqueror, who, in the words of the chronicler, 
' feared God but little — man not at all.' 



34 



HENRY THE FIRST. 

If tlie praise of friendly monks is a true certificate 
of goodness and greatness, there can be no question 
as to the character of Henry the First. Their panegyric 
is as absolute as in the case of his brother Eufus 
their condemnation is downright. The Anglo-Saxon 
chronicler, whose sympathies are divided between 
the common people and the Church, sums up the 
character of King Henry in the following emphatic 
words : c A good man he was, and there was great 
awe of him. No man dared misdo against another 
in his time. He made peace for man and beast. 
Whoso bore his burthen of gold and silver, no man 
dared say to him aught but good.' The Monk of 
Malmesbury is more discriminating in his praise, 
but not less decided. ' He was active,' he says, < in 
providing what would be beneficial to his empire; 
firm in defending it ; abstinent from war, as far as 
he could with honour, but when he had determined 
no longer to forbear, a most severe requiter of 
injuries, dissipating every opposing danger by the 
energy of his courage ; constant in enmity or in affec- 



HENRY THE FIRST. 35 

tion towards all ; giving too much indulgence to the 
tide of anger in the one, gratifying his royal magna- 
nimity in the other ; depressing his enemies, indeed, 
even to despair, and exalting his friends and de- 
pendents to an enviable condition. For philosophy 
propounds this to be the first or greatest concern of 
a good King, — 

To spare the suppliant, but beat down the proud. 

Inflexible in the administration of justice, he ruled 
the people with moderation, the nobility with con- 
descension. Seeking after robbers and counterfeiters 
with the greatest diligence, and punishing them 
when discovered, neither was he by any means 
negligent in matters of lesser importance. ... In 
the beginning of his reign, that he might awe the 
delinquents by the terror of example, he was 
most inclined to punish by deprivation of limb ; 
afterwards by mulct. Thus, in consequence of the 
rectitude of his conduct, as is natural to men, he was 
venerated by the nobility, and beloved by the com- 
mon people. . . . Nor, indeed, was he ever singled 
out for the attack of treachery, by reason of the 
rebellion of any of his nobles, through means of his 
attendants, except once. . . . With this exception, 
secure during his whole life, the minds of all were 
restrained by fear, their conversation by regard for 
him. He was of middle stature, exceeding the di- 
minutive, but exceeded by the very tall ; his hair wag 

n 2 



36 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

black, but scant}' near the forehead ; his eyes mildly 
bright ; his chest brawny ; his body fleshy ; he was 
facetious in proper season, nor did multiplicity of 
business cause him to be less pleasant when he 
mixed in society. Not prone to personal combat, he 
verified the saying of Scipio Africanus, i My mother 
bore me a commander, not a soldier ; ' wherefore he 
was inferior in wisdom to no King of modern time, 
and as I may almost say, he clearly surpassed all his 
predecessors in England, and preferred contending 
by counsel rather than by the sword. If he could, 
he conquered without bloodshed ; if it was unavoid- 
able, with as little as possible. He was free during 
his whole life from impure desires, for as we have 
learned from those who were well informed, he was 
led by female blandishments, not for the gratification 
of an intimacy, but for the sake of issue . ... in 
this respect the master of his natural inclinations, 
not the passive slave of lust. He was plain in his 
diet, rather satisfying the calls of hunger than sur- 
feiting himself by variety of delicacies. He never 
drank but to allay thirst ; execrating the least 
departure from temperance, both in himself and 
in those about him. . . . His eloquence was rather 
unpremeditated than laboured ; not rapid, but de- 
liberate. His piety towards God is laudable, for 
he built monasteries in England and in Normandy.' 
Henry of Huntingdon, writing towards the close of 
the reign of Stephen, gives us an impartial summary 



HENRY THE EIRST. 37 

of the public opinion respecting King Henry at his 
deaths and a plausible explanation of the change 
which subsequent events wrought in this estimate. 
6 On the death of the great King Henry, his cha- 
racter was freely canvassed by the people, as is 
usual after men are dead. Some contended that he 
was eminently distinguished for three brilliant gifts. 
These were, — great sagacity, for his counsels were 
profound, his foresight keen, and his eloquence com- 
manding ; success in ivar, for, besides other splendid 
achievements, he was victorious over the King of 
France ; and wealth, in which he far surpassed all 
his predecessors. Others, however taking a different 
view, attributed to him three gross vices, — avarice, 
as, though his wealth was great, in imitation of his 
progenitors he impoverished the people by taxes 
and exactions, entangling them in the toils of 
informers ; cruelty, in that he plucked out the eyes 
of his prisoner, the Earl of Mortain, in his captivity, 
though the horrid deed was unknown until death 
revealed the King's secrets ; and they mentioned 
other instances of which I will say nothing ; and 
wantonness, for, like Solomon, he was perpetually 
enslaved by female seductions. Such remarks were 
freely bruited abroad. But in the troublesome times 
which succeeded from the atrocities of the Normans, 
whatever King Henry had done, either despotically 
or in the regular exercise of his royal authority, 
appeared, in comparison, most excellent.' 



38 . ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

When, with these contemporary estimates before 
our eyes, we approach the consideration of the 
character of Henry, one of the first things which will 
strike us is that caution, the quality which in the 
Conqueror blended with and controlled his naturally 
fierce and fiery temper, was in his youngest son 
exalted into the leading characteristic, to which all 
other considerations, however influential in their 
various degrees, gave place. This was indeed the 
very backbone running through the whole of Henry's 
character, and to which every part of it had some 
reference. His mind was one of considerable breadth, 
and his caution ranged through every grade of the 
quality, from the wisest foresight and painful self- 
denial down to actual physical and moral timidity, 
and was exemplified in corresponding varieties of 
policy, from sagacious watchfulness and well-timed 
action down to low and deceitful cunning. This 
predominating characteristic led to curious incon- 
sistencies in his conduct. Not only the necessities 
of his early career and actual position, but the 
consciousness of possessing greater mental gifts, and 
deeper insight into men than most of those among 
whom he lived, should have tended to make him 
self-reliant and self-assured. Yet, on the other 
hand, his very foresight and intuition as to men and 
human contingencies made him ever, under the 
impulse of the over-ruling feeling, anxious to excess 
as to possibilities, and self-distrustful as to his 



HENRY THE FIRST. 39 

chances of realising his wishes. He conceived great 
ideas and, in the main, adhered to them ; he did not 
shrink from encountering any difficulties or any 
adversaries in the execution of his plans; but he 
exaggerated the greatness and importance of probable 
difficulties and dangers, and of possible opponents, 
and took unnecessary trouble to meet the one and 
conciliate the other. He was afraid even to give his 
own deliberate and cherished policy full development, 
and often took refuge in a compromise or subterfuge 
when he might have achieved great results and a 
greater reputation by a bolder course. Just as his 
contemporaries noticed that he avoided as much as 
possible direct conflicts in war, so in policy he rarely, 
if it were possible to escape from so doing, met his 
opponents fairly front to front, even where success 
was tolerably assured. He preferred to break the 
line of opposition by some adroit flank movement, 
some entire change in the disposition of his forces, 
some abandonment of direct principle, in order to 
secure indirectly and in another way a decided 
practical gain, however limited. He was too wise 
and resolute in the main to be other than a strong 
and successful ruler ; he was too prudent to attain to 
the highest type of statesmanship, of which a wise 
audacity is one of the constituent elements. 

The tortuous means to which his over-subtle 
caution often led him to resort sometimes endangered 
the success of some of his most cherished projects. 



40 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

For a considerable time the little county of Anjou 
had exercised an influence on European affairs quite 
out of proportion to its size and natural resources. 
Of the family which governed it, and to the remark- 
able abilities of successive members of which it owed 
this anomalous position of greatness, I shall have 
more to say hereafter. It is enough, at present to 
observe that they impressed with equal apprehension 
of their rising influence the great Conqueror, the 
fearless Rufus, and the calculating Henry. All alike 
sought to disarm their hostility by conciliation 
rather than force, though the Conqueror at least 
never shrank from a violent collision with them 
when absolutely necessar} r . But on the mind of 
Henry the importance of making friends of the 
Angevin rulers was ever present as a paramount 
consideration. He saw quite as clearly as his father 
had done that as long as Normandy and Anjou could 
be pitted against each other the French King could 
contend with the Anglo-Norman princes at consider- 
able advantage, and preserve his ascendancy in the 
northern part of France. He determined, therefore, 
that the two principalities should be united under 
one rule. The idea was, indeed, to some extent 
forced upon him by circumstances. His nephew, 
young William of Normandy, the son of the 
dispossessed and imprisoned Duke Robert, had 
(through the influence of the French King) succeeded 
in obtaining a promise of the hand of Matilda, 



HENRY THE FIRST. 41 

daughter of Eulk, Count of Aujou, with Maine as a 
portion. Henry, alarmed, succeeded by his constant 
agent, gold, not only in stopping the approaching 
marriage by an ecclesiastical declaration against it 
on the ground, of too great consanguinity between 
the parties, but also in getting his own son William 
affianced to the disappointed bride, with Maine as an 
immediate possession, and the promise of Aujou 
being hereafter added. But the death of young 
"William of England baffled this skilful though 
unprincipled act of diplomacy, and Henry set to work 
to reweave his political meshes. His own daughter, 
Matilda, had been married when a child to the 
Emperor Henry V. of Germany, and had now 
returned to her father a childless widow, past the 
flower of her youth. The barons of England had 
been much averse to the German match, from 
general dislike of a foreigner, and from fear of an 
invasion of their estates by a host of new foreign 
adventurers. They therefore made it a condition of 
their solemn recognition of the succession of Matilda 
to her father's crown, that she should not be 
married agaiu to a foreign prince without their 
consent. This was but reasonable, and had Henry 
fairly put before them his newly-formed scheme of 
marrying Matilda to Geoffrey, the heir of Anjou, a 
boy of fifteen, he might have experienced some 
difficulty in overcoming their opposition, owing to 
their jealousy of Angevin favouritism, but the risk of 



42 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

a marriage with some more powerful foreign prince 
would probably ere long have reconciled them to the 
project. But Henry, as nsual, cautiously appre- 
hensive, over-rated this immediate opposition, and 
resolved rather to over-reach them, and the pledge 
thus given was followed by the news of the accom- 
plishment of the Angevin marriage. The anger of 
the barons was great, though they dared not show it 
openly, but they used it as a pretext after the death 
of Henry to refuse allegiance to his daughter ; and 
Henry's over-finessing almost brought on the 
catastrophe if not of a final separation of Normandy 
as well as Anjou from the English Crown, at any 
rate of the lasting exclusion of his own descendants 
from the latter. In the meantime, he reaped a 
bitter harvest of trouble and anxiety, owing to the 
quarrels and temporary separation of the ill-assorted 
and loveless couple. Perhaps this over-caution had 
something to do also with the more unpleasing side 
of Henry's character, his cold-blooded cruelties. 
His two predecessors were both cruel men, but in 
Hufus, at any rate, this ferocity was relieved by 
impulsive acts of generous magnanimity. But we 
find no such highminded forgiveness in Henry. He 
felt injuries too keenly, and feared their repetition 
too nervously, to be able (except out of policy) to 
exhibit generosity to his enemies. We do not lay 
any stress on the character of the punishments 
which he inflicted, because, however barbarous, they 




HENEY THE FIRST. 43 

were very common in those days ; but what are we 
to think of the pitiless rancour of his conduct 
towards Luc de la Barre-en-Ouehe, a knight who 
had satirised Henry in songs, and whom (although 
he was not his vassal, and in spite of the entreaties 
of the Earl of Flanders) he caused to be blinded, the 
unfortunate satirist dashing out his own brains in 
agony during the process. This was not merely 
cruelty, but pusillanimit} T . All that can be said for 
Henry is that he probably felt the satire much more 
keenly than an unlettered man would have done, and 
that he abused the power of a King to avenge 
the animosity of a student. For Henry was by 
nature and early training a statesman of the closet, 
and the hatred of such is often more deadly and 
implacable than that of men in whom incessant 
action leaves no time for brooding over wrongs. 

With defects such as the preceding Henry could 
not have achieved and maintained the great position 
which he actually secured, if he had not possessed 
great and commanding abilities. Those quiet,, 
intelligent eyes, which penetrated through the 
surface of men and things, held England and 
Normandy alike in stern control. Though he seemed 
ordinarily of gentle mood, except when roused to 
occasional outbursts of ancestral rage, men feared his- 
smiles even more than they did his expressed auger, 
for they said that he often smiled most on those- 
whose ruin he was meditating. By force and by 



44 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

guile lie crushed and kept under hirn his turbulent 
barons, creating* a counterpoise to them in men of 
low extraction, sometimes drawn from the English 
soil, sometimes from foreign lands ; and though his 
police administration of England may have lacked 
the incessant vigilance and completeness of that of 
his father, it was not wanting in vigour or purpose. 
During a large part of his reign, indeed, as we 
gather from the frequent complaints of the friendly 
Anglo-Saxon chronicler, he rather neglected the 
internal condition of England in his absorption in 
Continental affairs. His administrative genius had 
not the ubiquity of his father's. But when he was 
to some extent relieved from the anxiety on the 
other side of the Channel, he set himself energetically 
to work to realise the promises which he had held 
forth in charters at the beginning of his reign, and 
every part of the kingdom, and every branch of the 
government, local as well as imperial, felt the firm 
touch of his well-directed hand. Men complained, 
indeed, that he executed the innocent along with the 
guilty, but it is certain that the idea of an irresistible, 
presiding executive was re-established in England, 
and local oppression in many cases sank into a mere 
memory, lingering about the mouldering castles of 
the dispossessed nobles. The scholar who could not 
forgive a satire could be a liberal and discerning 
patron of learning and genius. Another standard of 
merit besides that of military prowess and strength 



HENRY THE FIRST. 45 

of arm and limb was set up in the land; and 
ecclesiastics became less famous as churchmen than 
as men of arts and letters. Ecclesiastical preten- 
sions were kept at bay and temporised with ; never 
practically admitted. Here the student-king encoun- 
tered the student- priest, and the result was a drawn 
battle. Anselm, who, in horror or despair of Rufus,. 
had quitted the arena, was first invited back, 
caressed, cajoled, and used as an instrument of the 
King's plans and necessities. Then, when the 
demands of the priest became too exacting*, he was 
threatened and forced into a second exile ; then 
again plied with all the devices of a subtle diplomac} r , 
until the Church and Rome itself were won from his 
side. And lastly, the Archbishop was compelled to 
submit to a crafty compromise, which gave up half 
the points in dispute to the ecclesiastic, but left all 
the power to the King, robbing the partial victory of 
all its pleasure to the restored exile, who was then 
again caressed and soothed into reluctant quiescence 
and comparative insignificance. 

Such was the wise, calculating, anxious, unloved 
and unloving Henry Beauderc, the Student-King, 
who feared men not a little, but who made all men 
fear him still more. 



46 



STEPHEN AND MATILDA. 

If I were seeking for an illustration of that peculi- 
arity in Royalty which sets it apart in the public 
eye from other conditions of life, and fences it in 
with something of a feeling of sanctity, I could 
find none more apt for my purpose than the case of 
Stephen of Blois, who, with many of the qualities 
which are especially kingly, and with others to 
which few kings have attained, never succeeded in 
impressing the mind of the nation with the stamp of 
a king. Brave he was, even to rashness ; and he 
was not only a good soldier, but a skilful general. 
He had the quick military eye, and prompt military 
decision. His energy was exhaustless. Wherever 
opposition raised itself, or danger threatened, he 
flew like the wind, constantly taking his enemies by 
surprise, disconcerting elaborate combinations and 
calculations, and crushing half-executed designs. His 
perseverance was indomitable, and combined with 
an elastic spirit supported him through every phase 
-of fortune. He was chivalrous to an extent which 
marked him out most favourably among the feudal 



STEPHEN AND MATILDA. 47 

warriors of that age. The chroniclers who are most 
attached to the cause of his rival frankly admit his 
great generosity to his enemies, and the kindliness 
of his disposition. He carried this so far as to 
supply the pecuniary necessities of his young rivals 
Henry of Anjou, without seeking a single advantage 
in return when he appealed to his chivalry, during 
an unsuccessful invasion of England. To have 
ceased to oppose him, or to be at his mercy, was 
with him a sure recommendation to forgiveness, or 
to humane and noble treatment. He was courteous 
and affable to all men, even to an excess of conde- 
scension. He had a bright spirit, a genial disposition, 
and a kindly, if not a warm heart. In short, he was 
a perfect gentleman of the Continental rather than 
the Anglo-Norman type, with something in him, too 
(notwithstanding the imputations on his sincerity), 
which left the conviction of genuine sympathy and 
real good intentions towards all men. If the fidelity 
of men could have been secured by an infinite 
succession of satisfactory personal interviews, he 
would have retained, as he won for the moment, 
every heart to his side. If tranquillity in a kingdom 
could have been insured by prompt personal repres- 
sion of overt acts of rebellion against his executive, 
Stephen would never have been wanting in this 
respect. If the example of personal abstinence from 
tyranny and cruelty could have inspired the barons 
of England with some sense of justice and humanity, 



48 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

and the common people with an idea of property 
and of order, Stephen's character would have been 
an excellent substitute for an exact execution of the 
best laws of Edward the Confessor. But it was not 
so. Stephen approached the ideal of a knight sans 
pmr et sans reproche, but the men around him, and 
the society of which he was the nominal guardian, 
were very little affected by the fact. He was never 
felt to be a King, and no effort on his part could 
make him either feel or act as a King. When he 
became a prisoner in the hands of his enemies, many 
lamented his imprisonment and demanded the release 
of their dear lord ; but no one seems to have felt the 
inadequacy of the proposed exchange for him of 
Eobert, Earl of Gloucester, except Eobert himself, 
the son of a king, though base-born. With all his 
high qualities, he had nothing of the c awful majesty 
of kings ; ' his influence and authority were alike 
strictly personal, and he was always thrown back 
on his own personal resources. He had nothing of 
the caste feeling of Royalty, though his bearing was 
so naturally courteous that it was almost royal. 
But it was always courtesy to the individual man, 
not to the member of a class. His social bearing 
resolved itself into an infinite number of personal 
relations, within that society of which he was a 
member, not the external Head ; and his energies 
were dissipated and lost amidst a crowd of separate 
and special transactions. He tried to know and he 



STEPHEN AND MATILDA. 49 

tried to govern every individual baron, and he met 
every revolt and encountered every danger as it 
arose. But lie had no conception of either the 
general interests or the aggregate prejudices of 
classes as such, and he neglected the means for 
securing permanently the one, while he frequently 
outraged the other. He looked on men as indivi- 
duals, and not as Barons or Churchmen, and his 
relations with them had never the weight and 
authority of Imperial State action. He corrected as 
he best could special evils as they rose, but he made 
no general provisions which might guard against 
their recurrence. He had great force of character, 
but no grasp of mind, and no foresight. He could 
not generalise, and he spent his life and wore out 
his body in a fruitless struggle with details. Never 
under an energetic and well-intentioned prince had 
the Executive authority been so ignored throughout 
England, or the overseeing protection of the State 
been so nearly a dead letter. Every man fought for 
his own hand, and the weakest went to the wall. A 
thousand different centres of authority were set up 
in the civil life of the country, and in most cases 
these were but so many impersonations of evil. 

The King's name, indeed, was not odious in the 
eyes of the people, but it was no longer a tower 
of strength and of protection against oppression. 
It was even worse, for it was a cover to oppression. 
Stephen not only relied for his government on his 

E 



50 ESTIMATES OF' THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

personal relations with men, but he was singularly 
deficient in knowledge of men and in penetration 
into character. The very invariableness of his gentle 
courtesy to all men was perhaps in some measure 
connected with this, for he had not the depth of 
character which, as in the instance of Henry the 
First, would enable him to wear a smooth counte- 
nance to those whose inherent villainy had been 
revealed to his penetration. Stephen was courteous 
to all, partly because he trusted all, or, at any rate, 
could not distrust them at that moment. The 
charges against him of insincerity and non-fulfilment 
of his fair promises may really have arisen from 
mere excess of temporary good feeling, and prodiga- 
lity of good intentions, which were based on a purely 
imaginary estimate of the individual, and could 
never be realised, in the stern necessities of the 
future. I do not think that any charge of wilful 
deceit and treachery has been fairly brought home to 
Stephen. This want of penetration into personal 
character, however, placed the King at the mercy of 
every false friend and every designing villain. More 
than half the advantages he gained by his energy 
and military skill he lost by listening to unwise or 
treacherous counsels, and by impolitic leniency. 
But for this, Bristol, the heart of the revolt, would 
have soon fallen into his hands, and but for this, 
Matilda herself w r ould have become his prisoner, and 
every noble in England have been made to respect 



STEPHEN AND MATILDA. 51 

and obey him. And this unfortunate choice of 
advisers, and misplaced confidence in men, did not 
only affect his own interests and reputation most 
prejudicially, but also lay at the root of much of the 
(misery of the kingdom. Not merely had the King 
.to incur the burden of odium attaching to the mis- 
doings of his ministers and advisers, but the people 
themselves were handed over to the irresponsible 
mercies of the worst and most tyrannical men. I 
•do not believe that Stephen ever wilfully and con- 
sciously placed a tyrannical oppressor in power over 
any part of his dominions ; but his want of insight 
into character, combined with an easy and careless 
disposition, injured not only his own interests, but 
those also of other people. He had continually to 
conciliate enemies (as he did not choose to crush 
them), and he forgot, that it is one thing to pardon 
an offence against oneself, and another to place 
others at the mercy of the pardoned offender. So, 
without intending it, and through sheer careless 
kindliness to individuals, he unwittingly handed 
over half his subjects to a doom of intolerable 
oppression. 

That, under all these drawbacks, Stephen should 
have been, as he certainly was, a popular king, is a 
striking testimony to his personal character. The 
people at large had, as we have seen, heavy com- 
plaints which they might justly urge against his 
thoughtless neglect of their interests. The barons, 



52 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS, 

if they profited frequently by his weakness, had,, 
along with the people, a common cause of complaint 
against him in the foreign mercenaries (chiefly 
Flemings) on whom he lavished the gold accumula- 
tions of Henry the First, and whose services he 
thought preferable to those of his Anglo-Norman 
vassals. These men, though not more covetous and 
rapacious than other adventurers, had no time given 
them, owing to the nearly incessant demand on their 
services in the field, to acquire the character of 
settled inhabitants of the country, and the unmixed 
feeling which they thus inspired of a merely mer- 
cenary army, without bonds of sympathy with the 
soil and the native population, made them hateful to> 
all classes of Englishmen. The Church, towards 
which the King had no special antipathy, like his 
predecessor Eufus, felt itself outraged in the persons 
of its leading ecclesiastics, whom the King treated 
as if they were mere laymen, and on whom he was 
sometimes (for him) unusually severe, because they 
offered to him a corporate instead of an individual 
resistance. He could not understand caste obsti- 
nacy and disobedience, and when brought face to 
face with it he lost his usual kindly forbearance 
exactly where, for his own interests, it was most 
needed. Yet, with all these grievances against him, 
there was a general disposition in all classes to like 
and to sympathise with him. When he was in 
captivity, the cry for his release arose alike from 



STEPHEN AND MATILDA. 53 

layman and cleric, from high and low, from friends 
and opponents, and her obstinacy on this point 
diverted more than any other thing the hearts of the 
nation from Matilda. The Londoners, who, protected 
by customs and officers of their own, and living more 
closely in his immediate presence, had no cause to 
dread the great nobles, and saw little but the favour- 
able side of the King's character, were devoted to 
him, and contributed largely to his money-bags and 
militia ; while the men of Kent, also more protected 
against feudal usurpation than other parts of Eng- 
land, rallied round his wife when all England besides 
had apparently forsaken him. A sovereign who 
could enlist such, sympathies on his side could not 
have been a bad man, or an entirely weak man. 
He was a kind but not infatuated father, and a 
faithful husband to one of the noblest women of the 
age. But he was no king; he was only the first 
and the best of the barons. 

Eor estimating the character of his rival, Matilda, 
or, as she is better known, c the Empress Maud,' we 
have far fewer materials, and my conclusions must 
therefore be much less positive, and may be, to some 
extent, unjust. Most of her life was passed out of 
England, and English chroniclers seem to have in- 
terested themselves wonderfully little in the pecu- 
liarities of her character. By birth half-Norman, 
half- Saxon, she seems to have combined the hard 
and proud character of the one with the stubborn 



54 ESTIMATES OF. THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

obstinacy of the other. She had undaunted courage, 
and a masculine spirit of enterprise, with a mascu- 
line sternness of mind. Whatever there may have 
been in her of the gentle and the womanly seems to 
have been suppressed by the circumstances of her 
early life. Betrothed in her eighth year, and sent 
to be educated in Germany, where she became the 
wife of an Emperor when she had scarcely passed 
her twelfth birthday, she naturally grew up in the 
ideas of the land of her husband, and in all the stiff 
restraints of an Imperial position. We know that 
the impression which she left behind her in her 
Imperial home was not an unfavourable one, and 
that nobles of Lorraine and Lombardy (the seat of 
her Imperial dower-lands) followed her on her return 
to the Court of her father, claiming her back as 
their chosen ruler. We can well conceive that her 
stately, haughty bearing, and her proud self-depen- 
dence would suit well the headship of that elaborate 
hierarchy of dignities which called itself the suc- 
cessor of the Empire of the West. But it was a 
difficult thing for one who had sat by the side of 
the successor of Charlemagne, first to sink into a 
little Countess of Anjou, and then to drive a dis- 
advantageous bargain for her father's crown with a 
rebellious and lawless nobility. If the pride of the 
Empress Dowager and of the woman were severely 
wounded by the forced marriage with a petty count 
and a clever, precocious stripling, with a will of his 



STEPHEN AND MATILDA. 55 

own, quite as much must the haughty spirit of the 
daughter of Henry and the granddaughter of the 
Conqueror have chafed under the necessity of per- 
petual conciliation and concession towards the barons 
of her own party in England. That she was a 
woman of some power of mind we might gather, if 
only from the influence which she is stated to have 
exercised over her father's counsels on an important 
point, such as the choice of the noble gaoler for 
Duke Robert. But she came to England with 
Imperial ideas and a wounded spirit, and both alike 
disabled her from ruling this country. She looked 
down with indifferent contempt on all ranks of 
society alike. If Stephen was merely one unit in 
the social mass, she was so removed from it that she 
scarcely recognised its existence. The Londoners 
complained bitterly of her insolent treatment of their 
great citizens when they besought her to lighten her 
heavy demands on their purses. But they had no 
reason to complain of being worse handled than 
others. She treated the barons, who, abandoning 
Stephen's cause, sought her favour, with the ill- 
concealed scorn fitting for renegades, but most 
impolitic in one who benefited by their recreancy. 
She seemed to ignore the influence and counsels 
even of her half-brother Eobert of Gloucester, to 
whom she was chiefly indebted for her crown ; while 
the proud, intriguing Bishop of Winchester retreated 
to his diocese, feeling himself for the first time in 



56 ESTIMATES OF. THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

his career counted as of no weight. Even if she had 
been forewarned of her approaching downfall, the 
probability is that she would have preferred a brief 
reign of independent royalty to long years as a puppet 
sovereign. She had but one rule with friend and 
foe — she kept them all at a distance. With an 
undisputed title to the position she held, she might 
have been tolerated and respected ; as a competitor 
for the crown, she merely alienated everybody ; and 
when her son was recognised by the King of France 
as Duke of Normandy, and again by the united 
English factions as the adopted son and successor 
of Stephen, her own prior claims were passed over, 
and were virtually negatived. The very reverse of 
her rival, she lost all by being a King overmuch, 
and nothing but a King. 



57 



HENRY THE SECOND. 

With the accession of the House of Anjou to the 
throne of England, we feel at once that we are on 
new ground, and that, though there is a certain 
continuity both in the history of the country and in 
the character of the reigning sovereigns before and 
after that event, there is also a marked change in 
the one and a fresh element in the other. If, as I 
believe, infusions of new blood into families never 
destroy and seldom seriously diminish the force of 
existing elements of character, and though sometimes 
modifying the character as a whole by their co- 
existence, more frequently manifest themselves from 
time to time as an additional type of character in 
individual members of the family, alternating, 
according to some unknown law, with the old 
elements, it is especially important to ascertain what 
this new blood really is, as this knowledge will be 
one essential key to character for the succeeding 
history of the family. The House of Anjou, according 
to the family legend, had its origin during the 
Carlo vingian period of French history in one Ingelgar, 



58 ESTIMATES OF. THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

raised to the dignity of Count by Charles the Bald, 
or his son, Louis the Stammerer, some time in the 
latter half of the ninth century. This Ingelgar, we 
are further told, was the son of one Tertullus, a 
peasant (raised by Charles to the rank of Seneschal) , 
who was the son of Torquatius (corruptly called 
Tortulfus), a Roman settler, whose family had been 
expelled from Armorica by order of the Emperor 
Maximus. We attach no authority to the legend, 
which may be entirely unfounded, but we can, I think, 
recognise in the family type of the Counts of Anjou 
some characteristics which are Italian rather than 
Teutonic or Celtic. Strong men they nearly all of 
them were, and wise men also in their generation. 
Learned far beyond the average of their age, one of 
them was himself the author of a fragment on 
Angevin history, which is described as of considerable 
merit, and another is the reputed author of the 
proverb that an unlettered king is but a crowned ass. 
Courageous when needful, but never unnecessarily 
courageous, they were good soldiers, but better 
statesmen. Hot-blooded by nature, but patient by 
policy. Generally very prudent, but always very 
pertinacious. Not too proud to crouch for a time in 
order to gain an ulterior end, but too proud ever to 
forget the indignity, and with only too good a 
memory of the past. Capable of unscrupulous 
cruelty, but averse to wanton brutality. Often kind- 
hearted and habitually courteous, but not always 



HENRY THE SECOND. 59 

trustworthy. Often true and reliable in a wider 
sense and in the essence of the matter, but seldom 
scrupulous as to immediate promises or acts. With 
little or no faith, but a great deal of superstition ; 
readily submitting to do penance for the evil means 
employed, but holding fast to the ill-gotten gain. 
Perfect actors, but not wholly untrue men. 

Henry the Second of England, the representative 
of this line of Counts, partook of these family 
characteristics, though his Anglo-Norman descent 
was not wanting in its counterbalancing influences. 
Seldom has a general moral estimate formed of a 
character respecting whose leading points there is so 
little dispute varied so much among historians as in 
his case. His contemporaries range in their verdicts 
from the strongest praise to the deepest reprobation, 
and modern writers, if less unreserved in their 
language, are no less marked in their general tone. 
The great question involved in the Church contro- 
versy between him and Becket has, no doubt, had 
considerable effect in causing this divergence of 
sympathies, but apart from this, his nature was as 
complex as those of Stephen and Matilda seem to be 
simple and manifest ; and there is so much of what 
appears to be inconsistent and antagonistic in both 
the good and evil points of his character, that men 
have naturally judged very differently about what 
they could scarcely understand. 

Henry of Anjou was, beyond dispute, a real King. 



60 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

He could not only govern, but he could make liis 
position as King distinctly felt throughout the 
nation. There was no question about paying respect 
to his authority. The Executive in his hands was a 
realrty, and he himself was the hinge on which 
English society hung. His character, if it was 
considerably affected by external circumstances, 
was powerful enough to impress its own stamp 
most decidedly on all around. Under its influence 
England ceased to be a mere cock-pit for rival barons 
and a disorganized social chaos. The idea of order 
and law once more predominated, and the Executive 
was again their vindicator and guardian. To effect 
this some strong efforts of physical force had to be 
made, and some questionable acts of authority were 
resorted to. A Royal army swept through the 
kingdom, capturing and destroying the strongholds 
of the most turbulent or dangerous nobles, and it is 
said that the King dared to proclaim the resumption 
to the Grown of all grants since the death of Henry I. 
But these special acts of aggressive vigour were less 
influential agents in ushering in the new era of 
assured tranquillity than the constant and habitual 
presence of a watchful and provident administrative 
system. To whatever extent our judicial system 
owes its present shape to the sagacity of Henry of 
Anjou, it seems certain that (however slow and 
imperfect his process might be) he brought the 
safeguard and criterion of law closer to every 



HENRY THE SECOND. 61 

inhabitant of England. The chroniclers tell us that 
he loved to depress and humiliate the proud nobles, 
and to raise up men from nothing ; and that he was 
jealous of the talents and influence of no men, so 
long as their power was derived from himself 
ultimately. He felt that any doubt as to where the 
ultimate authority rested was fatal to confidence and 
sustained order. His expedition in person to Ireland 
was dictated by something of this feeling, and had he 
not been drawn away prematurely from that scene foe 
domestic disturbances, he would probably have ilP 
augurated a system of government in the island very- 
different indeed from the anarchical despotisms, 
feudal and patriarchal, which sowed the seeds of 
Ireland's future misery and degradation. These are 
characteristics of a great and strong administrator, 
and to some extent of a great legislator. But the 
highest legislative faculty implies also an amount of 
originality of conception for which we can scarcely 
give Henry II. credit. He had a great knowledge of 
the ideas of others, and of the results of ideas and 
systems in past times, and under every variety of 
^mstances. Contemporaries who knew him well 
^| Penally, and who were competent judges, tell us 
that he had a remarkable knowledge of history, and 
was continually accumulating facts, and discussing 
questions of interest with the ablest men he could 
find; while his astonishing memory prevented his 
ever losing anything he thus acquired. He studied 



62 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

tlie past for the lessons of the past, and he studied 

the events and the men of his own age in order to be 

able to use them as elements in forming his judgment 

of measures and of policy. He seems to have had 

little instinctive insight into men, but he made up to 

some extent for this deficiency by close observation. 

He never, it is said, forgot a face on which he had 

once steadily gazed. He had the learned and literary 

tastes of his family, inherited both from his Angevin 

ancestors, and from his student- grandfather, Henry 

Beauclerc. He was an accomplished master of the 

spoken languages of Europe, and whatever knowledge^ 

of men and the art of government could be acquired 

through the medium of study and personal intercourse 

and observation, he gained, and was ever gaining. 

He had a clear, sound judgment, and (in matters of 

policy) a cool head. But he had but little initiative, 

and avowedly often waited for the further development 

of events to determine his action. He thought long, 

that when the occasion offered he might act promptly 

and decisively, and he never ventured a step furth 

than the necessities of his position or his 

seemed to demand. 

The impetuous and impulsive natives of his S 
ern Continental dominions could not understand tins, 
to their minds, want of enterprise in their new ruler. 
They were obliged by the force of facts to admit that 
he could acquire and retain, by a judicious mixture 
•of armed force and subtle policy, the whole western 



ompny 
faxthMk 

A 



© 



HENRY THE SECOND. 63 

sea-board of France, from the confines of Flanders to 
the Pyrenees. But they could not understand how a 
man who could gain so much could calmly stop 
short at this point, and not proceed immediately to 
grasp more, and to expel the House of Capet 
altogether from the soil of France ;— and so the 
Troubadours in their lays reproached him for what 
they thought a want of courage and a spirit of 
unworthy concession. They did not understand the 
character of a man who, working out a carefully- 
-conceived policy through the agency of passing 
V opportunities, could make long pauses, and give 
ground even for the time, awaiting patiently fresh 
occasions for the further development of that policy. 
The desultory, purposeless warfare, of which he was 
a spectator in the early years of his life, had 
evidently made a deep impression on his mind ; and 
bold enough when he saw that the road was one 
which he must take in order to arrive at an im- 
portant end, he felt no temptation to indulge in 
der raids, or to enter on rash enterprises which 
not be sustained. 
his grandfather, Beauclerc, Henry was very 
s, but his caution formed part of his pre- 
meaitated plans ; he did not really hesitate or recede, 
but paused or stopped short, because he had never 
intended to do more. The very fact that he based 
his action on accumulated experience, and regulated 
it by close and continuous observation of the course 




64 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of events, guarded him to a great extent from en- 
gaging in enterprises beyond his strength, and from 
the consequent mortification of an unforeseen check. 
Had he been more original in his ideas he might 
have been less uniformly successful. This peculiarity 
of disposition or policy led him generally to avoid 
war as much as possible, and to have recourse in 
preference to diplomacy, or, at any rate, delay. As 
a statesman he distrusted the uncertainty of appeals 
to arms, and as a political student his nature revolted 
from the coarse and brutal character of this mode of 
decision. He was not naturally a soldier or a 
general. He was curiously economical of life, and it 
was said he regretted the dead far more than he 
appreciated or rewarded the living ; that he bitterly 
bewailed the loss of those to whom in their lifetime 
he had been only a hard and exacting master. 
Their slaughter was so much loss of material. War, 
with its blind fury, menaces indiscriminately the 
lives of the best men and the least efficient ; and 
Death, while obliterating, often for the first time 
appraises them at their just value. 

A policy so mature in its conception, a^ 
measured in its execution, we might well suppc 
have been the symbol and reflection of a tranquil, 
passionless, well-ordered nature in its author. But 
this was not the case, and here begin the curious 
contradictions in the character of Henry. His 
temperament was not passionless, but full of com- 




HENRY THE SECOND. 65 

pressed passion ; his mind was not tranquil and non- 
chalant, but seethed with the restrained excitement 
of expectation. We have a very minute account 
of his personal appearance and habits from those 
who were often admitted to his inmost circle, and 
the picture is a most curious one. He was a man of 
middle height, broad-chested, and with sinewy arms, 
rather inclined to be corpulent. His head was large 
and round. His complexion was reddish and freckled, 
his eyes greyish-blue, and his voice unmodulated. 
He was very abstemious in his diet, and his only 
sensual excesses lay in another direction. Giraldus 
Cambrensis, however, tells us that he preserved 
some external decorum even in these, until after his 
wife's misconduct in abetting the rebellions of his 
sons. But one great feature in his habits was his 
restlessness. He was scarcely ever still. He took 
the most violent and prolonged exercise on horse- 
back, hunting or hawking. When he returned 
home he seldom sat down, but continued either 
walking or standing. During this time he was 
either reading or maintaining a conversation with 
his - clerks ' on deep and intricate subjects. He was 
affable and unconstrained hi his demeanour, and had 
great flow and power of speech. He had his pleasant 
jest, without losiug his dignity. Parsiinomous in 
his private capacity, in his public he was lavish and 
magnificent. His extreme restlessness, which appears 
to have made a great impression on observers, was 

p 



66 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

by some attributed to a desire to guard against his 
tendency to corpulency ; but it was not an artificial 
device, but a physical necessity. It was thus that 
he gave some vent and relief to that eager, impatient 
spirit, which fretted under the delays imposed by his 
own well-weighed and deliberate policy, and it was 
thus that by constant physical exertion or absorbing 
intellectual exercise he reduced within the limits of 
control his heated rebellious blood. But there were 
times when the fetters in which he bound his spirit 
were snapped asunder, and when the whole Southern 
nature of the man burst forth, terrifying all around 
him. It is one thing to wait patiently for the long- 
deferred realisation of a deeply-cherished plan, it is 
another to see it suddenly overthrown by some 
unforeseen and irreparable catastrophe. Henry could 
not bear such disappointment, and this character- 
istic affected in an unfavourable manner his moralitv 
as well as his personal demeanour. He had the 
character of a most untruthful man. The King 
of France declared to his ambassadors that the 
English King was so full of fraud and deceit, so 
regardless of his word and covenant, that it was 
impossible to put faith in him ; and a Cardinal, 
after a long conversation with him, said, e Never did 
I witness this man's equal in lying.' Lying was not 
the exception among great men in those times, a,nd 
Henry's lying is explained in one respect by Giraldus 
by the very plausible hypothesis that he thought it 



HENEY THE SECOND. 67 

better to repent of what lie said than of what he did, 
and to fail in his word rather than miscarry in his 
act. He could not sacrifice an elaborate plan to 
truth ; and the same cause which produced his 
insincerity and, faithlessness also broke through his 
reserve, and revealed his genuine physical tempera- 
ment. He became, we are told, a very 6 lion, and 
more ferocious than a lion.' His eyes rolled wildly 
and became blood-shot, his face was inflamed, he 
poured forth a torrent of abuse and imprecations, 
and assailed with his hands all within his reach. 
When, on one of these occasions, a page presented a 
letter, the King attempted to tear out his eyes, and 
the boy did not escape without severe scars. On 
another, when a favourite minister ventured to 
justify the conduct of the King of Scots, Henry 
called him a traitor, threw down his cap, ungirt his 
sword, tore off his clothes, pulled the silk coverlet 
from his couch, and, throwing himself on the ground, 
gnawed the straw on the floor. This demonstrative 
passion was neither English nor Norman, and it 
gives us an increased opinion of the general power 
of self-control which could enable a man with such a 
temperament to be the prudent and sagacious states- 
man that Henry was. 

There were other characteristics of his Angevin 
ancestors in the English King. Like them he had 
no faith, but he had superstition. We are told that 
he paid no attention to the ordinary religious observ- 

F 2 



68 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

ances of the Church ; he refused to listen to clerical 
admonitions on his moral conduct, and he had no 
scruple in appropriating or retaining in his hands 
Church revenues, or in simoniacai transactions with 
respect to Church preferments. He was at one time, 
at any rate, curiously scrupulous as to his oath of 
fealty to his feudal Suzerain, the King of France ; but 
he cared little about oaths in general, holding, it is 
said, one particular form of oath alone as inviolable. 
In his contest with Becket there was a curious alter- 
nation of royal dignity, persistent determination, 
and harsh violence, with abject submissions, sudden 
changes in temper and policy, and most degrading 
and superstitious penances. Attracted by his talents, 
he had raised the man originally from a subordinate 
position to the Chancellorship, and assured, as he 
thought, by his seeming subserviency and coarse 
jovial ways, against the reproduction of an Anselm 
in his person, he made him Archbishop. But here 
his observation had not compensated for his want of 
penetration into character. Becket became his most 
dangerous opponent, appearing in the new character 
of the demagogue priest. Henry tried to conciliate, 
and then to cow him into submission. When Becket 
recanted his recantation, he drove him and his family 
from the kingdom with harsh violence. Then he 
suddenly changed his game, and lured him back to 
England by an absolute and abject submission ; and 
when this strong appeal to Becket's old feelings of 
friendship (on which Henry had so much counted, as 



HENRY THE SECOND. 69 

an agent in the ultimate realisation of his own views, 
and which was not altogether insincere, so far as the 
feelings themselves were concerned) failed in restrain- 
ing Becket from an arrogant and inconsiderate parade 
and abuse of his temporary triumph, the passion of 
the King broke forth, and he uttered the fatal words 
which brought on the murder of the Archbishop. 
Finally, when, although he had disarmed the anger 
of the Church by earnest disclaimers of the author- 
ship of the crime, fortune seemed to have suddenly 
deserted him in all his enterprises, his superstition 
effected what his principles had failed to do. Not 
content with making the fullest pecuniary atonement, 
he hurried to Canterbury, and subjected himself to the 
most ascetic penances at the Archbishop's tomb. 
The penance seemed to work, for the first news after 
it which greeted him was the unexpected capture of 
the King of Scots ; and Henry, relieved in conscience, 
and a man seemingly pardoned by Heaven, proceeded 
once more with renewed spirit to undo the work of 
the martyr whom he had just acknowledged as a 
saint, and to consolidate and extend those ' Con- 
stitutions of Clarendon,' to his opposition to which 
the Archbishop had virtually sacrificed his life ! 
For, a true Angevin, though Henry crouched, he 
gave up no spoils. 

Historians are divided as to his capability of for- 
giving offences. The probability is, that as he never 
abandoned a friend, he also never forgot an injury, 
though he did not often think it worth his while to 



70 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

be "unforgiving. He could often frankly ignore the 
past, but in some cases he could neither forget nor 
forgive. He had much to forgive in his own domes- 
tic circle, and the cause of his misunderstandings 
with his sons has been matter of much speculation. 
Giraldus, however, tells us that though an over- 
indulgent parent to them when young children, he 
was a step-father, making no allowances for them, 
when they grew up. This is not an uncommon 
parental feature, and seems to arise from an excessive 
pleasure in the helplessness and necessary dependence 
and trustfulness of the young child, and in disap- 
pointment and distrust at the rising independence 
and alien interests of the growing youth. In Henry's 
case it led to the final catastrophe of his life. All 
his sons had disappointed and defied him, but he 
still clung to the idea of the loyal devotion of the 
youngest, about whom his loving delusions as to his 
young children still lingered. But when, in the very 
agony of his humiliation before his eldest surviving 
son, and his hereditary enemy, Philip of France, the 
name of ' Earl John ' appeared at the head of the list 
of rebellious barons whom he was required to pardon, 
the heart of the Father and of the King broke at 
the same moment, and he bade farewell to the world 
and to policy, and, in the bitter despair of his whole 
nature, cursing all his legitimate sons, died refusing 
to recall that curse, attended and consoled only by the 
untiring affection of one base-born child. 



RICHARD THE FIRST. 

In one respect, if in. no other, Richard Oceur de Lion 
has experienced the same fortune as his father. 
Both are among the most bepraised and best abused 
Kings in histoiy, and in each instance in the 
estimates for evil and for good there is a considerable 
foundation of truth. Neither of them, though 
stained with not a few crimes, can be pronounced 
justly an absolutely bad man ; and, on the other 
hand, each of them, though endowed with command- 
ing qualities, leaves on the mind a certain impression 
of incompleteness. As the statesmanship of Henry, 
so the personal ascendancy of Richard stopped short 
of that impressive grandeur which marked the 
character of the Conqueror, and of one at least of 
their own descendants. Yet the nature of Richard 
of Aquitaine or Poitou, as he was for some time 
called, was not poor, purposeless, and fickle, as some 
modern historians, following too implicitly the state- 
ments of his enemies, have depicted it ; and if less 
complex and less interesting as a study of character 
than that of his father, it is sufficiently unusual to 
be worthy of more than passing attention. 



72 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

That modern writers should have been led to 
adopt this error of the earlier chroniclers respecting 
Richard has probably arisen from a previous false 
conception on their own part of his character as a 
whole, owing to the delusive position in which that 
prince presents himself to our eyes in the early part 
of his career. He was called c of Aquitaine, 5 which 
was handed over to his rule, and he appears before 
us as the favourite son of his mother, the heiress of 
Southern France, and as the especial hero of the 
Troubadours of that old land of the Celtiberians, the 
Romans, and the Visi-Groths. He was not only the 
companion-in-arms of the Knights of Aquitaine, but 
was himself a poet-warrior, after the true Proven- 
cal fashion. Historians have, therefore, naturally 
enough, leapt to the conclusion that he derived his 
nature as well as the fashion of his life from this 
fiery, impulsive, southern population, and have drawn 
his character on the assumption that such was its 
essential structure. Arriving at this conclusion, 
they have adopted without much investigation those 
statements respecting his personal characteristics 
which seemed to harmonise with this general con- 
ception. But I cannot but think that although the 
outward fashion of his education and early training 
were doubtless derived from the lands south of the 
Loire, and though he himself spoke and wrote his 
Sirventes in the soft Langue d'Oc, the main outlines 
of his organisation were derived from a very differ- 



EICHAED THE FIRST. 73 

ent source. His analogues are, to be found rather in 
the pages of the Eddas and Sagas of the Norths and 
it was as a Scandinavian Viking that he thought 
and acted. I do not deny that this Scandinavian 
type may have been modified in some of its com- 
ponent parts, as well as in its outward garb, by the 
blood which he derived from Eleanor of Aquitaine ; 
but while I cannot reconcile the leading features of 
Kichard's character with the Aquitaman type, I do 
recognise in them most distinctly some of the most 
striking traits of those Scandinavian rovers from 
whom, through his Norman ancestors, he more 
remotely sprang. There was the commanding pre- 
sence which overawed opposition, and seemed to 
stamp him as a natural leader of men ; there was the 
chivalrous yet somewhat stern courtesy ; there was 
the uncompromising* pride; there was the adventurous 
spirit in which the love of fame and the lawless greed 
of acquisition seemed to be blended in almost equal 
proportions ; there was the devotion to a great 
purpose of an enthusiast, often distracted for the 
moment by the temptation of immediate adventure 
and gain, but using even these distractions as new 
instruments in its further prosecution ; there was 
the thirst for battle, and the delight in the mere 
physical contest, befitting a wild animal rather than 
an intelligent being, and yet the common sense and 
shrewdness of perception which could see the limits 
of acquisition and of fame, and could turn away 



74 ESTIMATES OF' THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

from fruitless laurels. This was the character of 
those men who made a home for themselves in the 
Neustria of the Franks, and who established Norman 
rule in Southern Italy and Sicily — and such was the 
essential foundation of the character of Richard 
Lion Heart. Tall above the middle height, but 
more remarkable for his broad chest, and strong yet 
pliant sinews, he was by general confession physically 
the strongest of living men, as he was also physically 
the most inaccessible to fear and the most self- 
confident in his strength. On one occasion, putting 
to sea with a handful of followers, he hastened to 
the relief of Joppa, into which town the Turks had 
already forced their way, and were assailing the 
remnants of the Christian garrison. After a hasty 
reconnoitre, Richard drove his vessel on shore, and 
raising his fierce war-cry, plunged into the midst of 
the masses of the enemy, and drove them out of the 
place. On the next day, while encamping with a 
few hundred horsemen outside the gates, he was 
suddenly assailed by thousands of the Turks. 
Driving back the foremost assailants, he himself 
clove a Turk's head down to the shoulders, and then 
rode along the enemy's front line, crying, ' Now, 
who will dare to fight for the honour of God ? ' 
Years after the close of the Crusade, the Turkish 
mothers threatened their children with ' King 
Richard is coming ! ' and the riders asked their 
shying horses, ( if they saw the Lion-hearted King/ 



BICHAKD THE FIRST. 75 

His mental and moral constitution seemed as if they 
had been assimilated to, or almost as if they were 
the developments of, this physical force. He was a 
magnificent animal, even in his spiritual aspect. 
He was savage when roused to anger, and cruel, as 
much perhaps from the natural indifference to 
suffering in itself or others of a powerful physique 
as from conscious malice ; but placable when the 
exciting cause was removed, and capable of a 
strong-hearted masculine mercy much resembling 
that displayed on occasions by Eufus, with whom 
one modern writer has fancied a resemblance in the 
character of his vices. The story of his conduct to 
the archer whose arrow caused his death, if not true 
in itself, at any rate represents what it was con- 
sidered Richard was capable of, and reads very 
like the stories already related of the strange Eed 
King. 'He ordered,' says Roger de Hoveden, 
' Bertram de Gurdun, who had wounded him, to 
come into his presence, and said to him, " What 
harm have I done to you that you have killed me ? " 
On which he made answer, " You slew my father and 
my two brothers with your own hand, and you had 
intended now to kill me ; therefore, take any revenge 
on me that you may think fit, for I will readily 
endure the greatest torments you can devise, so long 
as you have met with your end, after having inflicted 
evils so many and so great upon the world." On 
this the King ordered him to be released, and said, 



76 ESTIMATES OF- THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

" I forgive you my death." But tlie youth stood 
before the feet of the King, and with scowling 
features and undaunted necir did his courage demand 
the sword. The King was aware that punishment 
was wished for, and that pardon was dreaded. 
" Live on," he said, " although thou art unwilling, 
and by my bounty behold the light of day. To the 
conquered faction now let there be bright hopes, and 
the example of myself." And then, after being 
released from his chains, he was allowed to depart, 
and the King ordered one hundred shillings of 
English money to be given him.' But if Richard 
was not implacable or cruel, he was a very stern 
man in his bearing even when not roused to anger, 
and there seems to have been a gravity in his nature 
from which we might have expected far greater 
results than any which were achieved. Giraldus, in 
drawing a comparison between him and his elder 
brother Henry, points directly to this cast of cha- 
racter. c In force and largeness of mind,' he says, 
Q they were pretty much on a level, but their way of 
excelling was very different. The one [Henry] was 
praiseworthy for his mildness and liberality ; the 
other remarkable for his severity and stability. The 
one was to be commended for his sweetness, the 
other for his gravity ; the one gained credit for his 
easy disposition, the other for his constancy; the 
one was conspicuous for his mercy, the other for his 
justice ; the one was the refuge of the unfortunate 



EICHAED THE FIRST. 77 

ill- deserving, the other was their scourge ; the one 
was the shield of evil, the other its hammer ; the 
one was devoted to the game of War, the other to 
its serious part ; the one to strangers, the other to 
his own circle,; the one to all men, the other to- 
good men.' 'No one will deny that here we have 
attributed to Richard a weight of character which 
is very inconsistent with the mere knight-errantry 
which is generally associated with his name. But 
though he was not an empty-headed trifler, the 
patient statesmanship of his father, Henry, formed 
no part of the endowments of Richard. He was a 
great general and a great engineer ; could not only 
fight, but plan campaigns, and was a master of the 
science of war. By his strength of purpose and 
military abilities he not only maintained his footing 
in France, but threatened the very existence of the 
Parisian crown. One or two great feats of provi- 
dent statesmanship, such as his alliance with the 
Court of Rome, and the purchase by his gold of the 
position of King of the Romans for his nephew 
Otho, attest the existence of talents of a still higher 
order. But his naturally frank and overbearing 
nature revolted alike from the subtleties and the 
condescensions of diplomacy, and was, indeed, in- 
capable of either appreciating or employing them. 
He had a power of quick observation, and a fairly 
good judgment; he listened to good advisers, and 
he relied for the rest on the ascendancy and force of 



78 ESTIMATES OE- THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

his personal character, and his established reputation 
as a strong and faithful friend and a dangerous eneniy. 
He was not, indeed (as has been generally supposed), 
wanting in a sense of his responsibilities as a ruler. 
He was very seldom in England, in person, it is true, 
and he left his kingdom to pursue what seems to us 
a wild and unnecessary enterprise ; but he made the 
best provision he could for the administration of this 
country during his absence. He placed at the head 
of the Government as Chancellor a man who, what- 
ever may be alleged against him by his enemies, and 
however unfortunate his career, added to remarkable 
abilities a strength of will which for some time 
sustained that stability in the executive which the 
absence of the King was so calculated to impair. 
He made his brother, Earl John, and his half-brother, 
Archbishop Geoffrey, take an oath not to enter 
England for three years, and he tried to stay their 
ambition and. bind them to the observance of this 
engagement by loading them with dignities and 
wealth. He kept a watchful eye on English pclibics 
during his absence, and his long stay in Sicily, 
which has been considered a blot on his character as 
a zealous Crusader, was probably dictated by a dread 
of impending civil war in England. The great 
officers of State and Justice who succeeded Long- 
champ were men of character and ability, and not- 
withstanding the King's absence and the treason 
of Earl John, the kingdom really remained to a 



EICHAED THE FIEST. 79 



[ great degree under the safeguard of an effective 
executive. Nor can Richard be accused of want of 
foresight with respect to the interests of his Con- 
tinental possessions, when Philip of France, from 
whose ambition they were most exposed to danger, 
was his companion to the Holy Land. But had he 
believed that all would have been lost during his 
absence, though Richard's steps might have lingered, 
they would scarcely have been arrested, so confident 
was he in his power of retrieving everything, and so 
strong in him was the spirit of the Crusader. The 
Crusades, indeed, gave exactly the appropriate vent 
to his adventurous spirit. There was a great cause, 
that of God Himself, at stake, and Richard was a 
devout believer. The indistinctness of the horizon 
which lay before him added an imaginative zest to 
the enterprise, while the concrete possibilities of 
wealth and royalties in the conquered East awakened 
the covetous side of his character. He was lavish 
and magnificent in his expenditure, and the whole 
Crusade lived on his accumulated wealth for many 
months ; but he did not lose sight of contingent 
advantages, and the conquest of Cyprus was valued 
perhaps even more as the acquisition of a satrapy 
than as a base of military operations, or a trophy of 
his warlike fame. 

Richard was not only devout, by which means he 
conciliated the clergy, but he had the superstition of 
the Angevins. Although his sensual intrigues do 



80 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

not intrude themselves on the page of history like 
those of his father, he was, by his own confession, 
addicted to gross indulgences. Twice before his 
death we hear of his sudden fits of remorse and 
penance for these excesses, and the account is a 
very curious one. 'Having called together,' says 
Roger de Hoveden, ' all the Archbishops and Bishops 
who were with him at Messina, in the chapel 
of Reginald de Moyac, he fell naked at their feet, 
and did not hesitate to confess to God in their 
presence the filthiness of his life. . . . He received 
the penance imposed by the Bishops before named, 
and from that hour forward became a man who 
feared God, and left what was evil and did what 
was good.' This good conduct was not, however, 
of a permanent character, for we read in the same 
chronicler, under the year 1195, £ In the same year 
there came a hermit to King Richard, and preaching 
the word of eternal salvation to him,' warned him 
to 6 abstain from what is unlawful,' saying, c if 
thou dost not, a vengeance worthy of God shall 
overtake thee.' The King, however, ' despised the 
person of the adviser,' and the hermit went his 
way. But 'on the Lord's Day, in Easter week . . . . 
the Lord scourged the King with a severe attack of 
illness, so that, calling before him religious men, he 
was not ashamed to confess the guiltiness of his 
life ; and after receiving absolution, took back his 
wife, whom for a long time he had discarded, and 



RICHARD THE FIRST. 81 

putting away all illicit intercourse, he remained 
constant to his wife, and they two became one flesh. 5 
His last recorded penitence was on his death-bed ; 
but before the Bishop could move him on this occa- 
sion, he had to encounter a sally of grim wit on the 
part of the dying man, which again reminds us of 
Rufus. When persuaded of the truth of his im- 
pending death, Richard asked what he was to do. 
' Consider of disposing of thy daughters in marriage, 
and do penance,' replied the prelate. c This confirms 
what I said before,' said the King, 'that you are 
jesting with me, for you know that I have never had 
either daughters or sons.' ' Of a truth, King ! ' 
rejoined the Bishop, c you have three daughters, and 
have had and nourished them long ; for as your 
first-born daughter you have Pride, as your second 
Govetousness, as your third, Self-indulgence, — these 
you have had, and have loved out of all reason from 
your very youth.' ' True it is,' said the King, c that 
I have had these, aud thus it is that I will bestoAV 
them in marriage. My first-born, Pride, I give to 
the Templars, who are swollen with insolence, and 
puffed up beyond all others. My second, that is 
Covetousness, I give to the Grey Friars, who with 
their covetousness molest all their neighbours, like 
mad devils. My last, however, namely, Self-indul- 
gence, I make over to the Black Friars, who devour 
roast meat and fried, and are never satiated.' ' For,' 

G 



82 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

adds William de Hemingburgh, in explanation, e these 
three sorts of men the King hated.' 

The Bishop and the King were certainly both 
correct in their enumeration of Richard's cherished 
faults. By his arrogance he lost half the advantages 
which his acknowledged ascendancy among the 
princes of Europe would have secured to him. On 
this point historians of all nations, English, French, 
and German, are agreed. He could not conceal his 
sense of his own superiority, and he could not con- 
ceal his opinion of the contemptible character of 
others; and this fact in itself disqualified him for 
excellence in statesmanship, and gave to his rival, 
Philip of France, an advantage which was not the 
due of any substantial superiority of mind. Cove- 
tousness, too, was, as I have said, one of Richard's 
undoubted failings, and to it he owes some of the 
greatest stains on his memory, — his extortion and 
his - wanton disregard of good faith in regard to 
money.' Where this was required for the purposes 
of his ambition, no consideration of the dignity and 
influence of the Crown, of the welfare of the nation, 
or of the justice due to individuals, was allowed to 
stand in the way. He abandoned royal privileges ; 
he alienated royal domains ; he sold not only char- 
ters to municipalities, but half the honours and 
dignities of the kingdom to the highest bidder ; he 
levied heavy taxes, and he wrung large sums from 
individual barons and officers of State to appease his 



RICHARD THE FIRST. 83 

assumed anger. The better qualities of his mind 
seemed to disappear under this thirst for the means 
of war, and he was for the time the scourge of his 
subjects. Yet, though he was covetous and extor- 
tionate, he was no miser. What he thus obtained, 
he spent — some of it unworthily, no doubt, much of 
it unwisely and heedlessly, but much also of it in the 
prosecution of great ends, which were felt by the 
nation then, though they might not be so now, to 
be worth the spending of much money. He was 
generous as well as extortionate ; and by the magni- 
ficence of his royal bounty he added to the reputation 
of the nation abroad, while he impoverished both 
it and himself at home. Faults thus redeemed 
were easily forgiven by a nation which, under a 
generally good administration and advancing foreign 
commerce, for which the Crusade had opened fresh 
outlets, was growing rapidly in wealth and self- 
importance, and I see little reason for wondering 
with one of the chroniclers, that the people were 
contented under Richard's scorpions, while they had 
murmured under his father Henry's rods, that he 
died amidst the loud lamentation that with him 
had departed the glory of the world, and that his 
name descended to succeeding generations as that 
of one of the most popular of English kings. 



c 2 



84 



JOHN. 

In examining into the motives which appear to have 
influenced the conduct of our Princes, we have 
hitherto been able to recognise a considerable 
ingredient of good; but we now come to a King- 
the actuating principle of whose life, if not always 
flagrantly evil, was always purely selfish in the 
narrowest and lowest sense of the term. It is not 
any absence of intellectual ability either in the field 
or in council, it is not the disastrous issue of his 
Continental enterprises, it is not his acts of violence 
and cruelty and his general misrule at home, it is not 
his fits of passion, and his frequent personal humili- 
ations which really create in our minds that feeling 
of abhorrence with which the memory of John of 
Anjou has been almost universally regarded, from his 
own times down to the present. This feeling, if I 
mistake not, arises from a conviction of the entire 
absence from the character of this, the worst, though 
not the weakest, of the Plantagenets, of all good and 
generous impulses. In nearly every one of our 
Princes, we are able (on careful examination) to find 



joiin. 85 

some traces of the better side of human nature ; but 
the paramount spirit of John, after every allowance 
has been made for his special misdeeds and his 
special failings, appears to have been evil, and evil 
in the most typical sense of the word. The essential 
characteristic of absolute evil is absolute selfishness, 
that selfishness which excludes all sympathy with 
anything beyond the supposed interests of the one 
individual himself. With such a nature there is bufc 
one motive, self -gratification, and but one restraining 
influence, fear, and by these two balancing forces, it 
seems to me, the character of John can alone be 
explained. If I wished, indeed, to give an example 
of the true diabolic type of character, I could not 
find anywhere a better one ; and the epithet ' base' 
which has been so generally bestowed by historians 
on this prince, is but another form of expressing 
the same judgment. Nothing could more con- 
clusively overthrow the theory of the compatibility of 
intellectual grandeur of character with the spirit 
of absolute evil. It is, perhaps, scarcely possible for 
a very weak man intellectually to be a perfect incar- 
nation of evil ; with an intellect of the highest order 
it is quite impossible. A certain amount of ability 
seems to be needed for the full development of the 
characteristics of evil; but the higher qualities of 
intellect imply also a broad consideration of the 
relations of men and things, which is quite inconsis- 
tent with the narrow selfishness of pure evil. The 



86 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

wisdom of evil scarcely rises above the level of 
practised cunning, its courage above that of violent 
self-assertion, and its energy above that of fitful and 
capricious passion. Such a character is fortunately 
rare in the pages of history; but it is such a character, 
as it seems to me, that we have to consider in esti- 
mating the qualities of John of England. 

In person, John was not so powerfully built as his 
brothers Henry and Richard. Like his brother 
Geoffrey, in whom there seems to have been much 
that was similar in disposition, he was only of middle 
height. But his features were handsome, and his 
manners very attractive. He was a very pleasant 
companion, possessed of a considerable amount of 
humour, sometimes of the grim Anglo-Norman type, 
but more usually of a lighter and more southern 
character. His volatile levity (the true offspring of 
his self-absorption) was conspicuous from his earliest 
years. Though he was capable of deep designs and 
bold enterprises, he was at the bottom a mere trifler. 
He was only earnest in his vindictive remembrance 
of injuries. Otherwise, his anger itself, though 
violent, excited rather contempt than fear. Like all 
the Angevins, he was well eelucated, and rather fond 
of learning and of learned men. He had sense enough 
to perceive the value of the one as an instrument of 
self-interest, and he perhaps respected the others, as 
among those least likely to come into active con- 
flict with his personal ambition. Like his Angevin 



JOHN. 87 

ancestors, also, he was very superstitious, with a 
scoffing indifference to religion. His ambition was 
sufficiently great to make him energetic in the asser- 
tion of his supposed or real rights and the furtherance 
of his desires., and he had a large share of the family 
abilities to assist and support him in this course. 
He had the quick military eye of his brother Eichard, 
and some of the qualities of a soldier as well as a 
general. He was a coward rather morally than 
physically, though his prostration of spirit on some 
occasions was so abject that it assumed much of the 
outward appearance of physical timidity also. So 
completely did the whole nature of the man then 
seem to grovel, that his unquestionable mental 
and physical endowments seemed in complete abey- 
ance. He was often cruel, and cruel with the 
intensity of apprehension. He distrusted all men, 
because he was too conscious of the evil of his own 
nature to believe in the possibility of disinterested, 
and scarcely of interested, good faith in others. 
The same belief in evil, however, led him to appeal 
to the weaknesses and selfishness of others, with 
considerable advantage at particular conjunctures. 
On this he successfully relied for breaking up several 
of the combinations against him of his disaffected 
Barons, and through a more sagacious appeal to this 
he secured to himself the support of a few — though 
a very few — staunch friends, and of some of the 
important municipalities of England. But he also 



88 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

lost much, by liis general distrust of good in others, 
for several times, by acting on his groundless sus- 
picions, he created the very dangers which his vio- 
lent precautions were meant to guard against. He 
watched every man nearly as closely as did. his father 
Henry ; but he bad not the patience to watch long 
enough, and his action was as excessive in its violence 
as it was generally premature. Nor did he possess 
the exhaustless activity of mind and body of his 
father and brother. When not roused to rapid but 
fitful movement, he was sunk in indolence and the 
grossest sensual indulgences. In pursuing these last 
he had neither self-restraint nor common-sense. The 
ignobleness of his nature discloses itself here un- 
mistakably. Not content with inflicting the most 
grievous injuries on the honour of the highest 
families in the land, he exulted in parading his 
infamy, and proclaiming publicly with contemptuous 
and coarse jests the downfall of his victims, and the 
dishonour of their relations. It was this conduct, 
far more than any acts of feudal oppression, that 
enrolled against him that phalanx of Barons to whose 
exertions, guided by the wiser and nobler counsels of 
the Primate Langton, we owe the Magna Charta of 
our Constitution. It was, indeed, against the per- 
sonal character of John, rather than against the 
system of government which had prevailed more or 
less ever since the Norman Conquest, that the will 
of the Nation was at length roused and its liberties 



John. 89 

asserted. Not only was John hated more bitterly 
for the deepest personal wrongs, but there was the 
most deep-rooted distrust of his good-faith. Dis- 
simulation and treachery were so habitually employed 
by him as the agents of his policy, that they became 
blunted and useless weapons in his hands. No one 
could and no one did at last believe in what he pro- 
fessed, and he lost even the possibility of retracing 
his steps. He had destroyed all belief in the pos- 
sibility of his becoming a good king, and he had 
to submit to the brand of evil which his own conduct 
had stamped upon his fame. 

Among the lower classes, and the inhabitants of 
some of the towns, who came less into personal con- 
tact with him, or who shared in some of his more 
politic acts of bounty and grace, there were, no doubt, 
less repugnance to the character of John, and a 
greater disposition to condone his faults, than among 
the higher orders, and the large cities such as London. 
But even here there could be little enthusiasm for a 
prince who, with all his pecuniary exactions, had lost 
nearly all the Continental possessions of his family. 
This, indeed, which perhaps told most against him 
with the common people, was not regarded with any 
particular sorrow by the Barons. ^It had been for 
some time felt that the acquisition of additional 
230ssessions in France, and the overthrow of the 
House of Capet, might reduce England and the 
English Barons to a position of decided inferiority, 



90 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

and it was now felt that the acquisition of the whole 
of France would add a dangerous weight to the 
power of the Crown. While the sceptre was wielded 
by such a man as Richard the Lion-hearted, this 
feeling of apprehension was almost lost in one of 
national greatness and glory. But it was instinctively 
felt that it was not the nation, but the personal 
position of the King that would be aggrandised with 
such a man as John ; and against this personal 
aggrandisement there was a general revolt of their 
feelings as well as their understandings. Never had 
the national cause or the national honour been the 
mainspring of the actions of John. Even his greatest 
act of resolution, his protracted stand against the 
Papal pretensions, was a mere result of personal pride 
and resentment, nerved by the popular support. 
When his own excesses had shaken this support, and 
he was terrified at the impending Trench invasion, 
on a reconciliation with Borne being offered to him 
at the price of national degradation, he not only 
made the concession, in which his brother had, to 
some extent, anticipated him by his homage to the 
German Emperor, though under peculiar circum- 
stances and for great ends, but seemed to delight in 
parading the humiliation of the national dignity, 
while exulting in his own personal deliverance and 
bettered position. Such a man, his Barons reasoned, 
should not be made greater through their means. To 
this personal antipathy, which led to the desertion of 



JOHN. 91 

liis vassals on more than one critical occasion, the loss 
of Normandy, the Angevin States, and a large part 
of Aquitaine was in a great measure due, though the 
conduct of the King himself, ever vacillating between 
action and indolence, and between pertinacious as- 
sertion of his rights and their sudden and wanton 
sacrifice, contributed to this fatal result, while it 
afforded some additional excuse for the conduct of 
the defaulters. But John himself preferred a mer- 
cenary to a feudal force, and this hireling soldiery,, 
while they were more than a match for the retainers 
of the English Barons, and enabled the King to 
almost crush the defenders of the Great Charter,, 
often betrayed his interests on the Continent by a 
sudden desertion to the enemy. Meanwhile, from the 
land of the Troubadours, came the angry complaint, 
i I will make a sharp-edged sirvente, which I will 
send to the King of England, to cover him with 
shame, which, indeed, he ought to have, if he re- 
members the deeds of his forefathers, if he compares 
them with his indolence in thus leaving Poitou and 
Touraine in the possession of Philip. All Guienne 
regrets Richard, who spared no treasure to defend it. 
But this man has no feeling. He loves jousts and 
hunting, to have hounds and hawks, to drawl on a 
life without honour, and see himself plundered with- 
out resistance. I speak but to correct a King, who 
loses his subjects because he will not assist them. 
You, Sire ! you suffer your honour to fall into the- 



D2 ESTIMATES Ol< THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

liiire; and such, is your infatuation, that, far from 
being sensible to reproach, you seem to take pleasure 
in the invectives with which you are loaded ! ' 

For once the language of the poets of Southern 
France was but the expression of the bare truth, as 
well as the echo of tlie sentiments of John's English 
subjects. Well, too, had they fathomed the degra- 
dation of his character in saying that he could feel 
no shame. This point alone was wanting to com- 
plete the features of this portrait of evil. John was 
an able man, incapable of using his abilities except 
to his own destruction ; a crafty man without sagacity; 
.a suspicious man without insight ; a learned man 
without wisdom ; a rash, man without courage ; an 
obstinate man without firmness ; a social man with- 
out sympathy ; and an evil man without shame. 



93 



HENRY THE THIRD. 

It is not difficult to state the main characteristics of 
Henry of Winchester. Without being a fool in 
under standing", he was (perhaps with one exception) 
the weakest in mental capacity of all the Plan- 
tagenets. He was, in himself, in everything, simply 
insignificant, so far as a very weak man can be in- 
significant. It is, however, an unfortunate fact that 
weakness by no means implies powerlessness to do 
harm to others, but that, on the contrary, it is one 
of the greatest sources of evil and mischief, though 
the moral responsibility attaching to the weak-doer 
himself may be comparatively slight. A very weak 
man is, by virtue of that very nature, at the mercy 
of his own imperfect power of judgment, as well as 
of the mistaken or ill-disposed suggestions of others,, 
and, without any malicious intentions on his own 
part, perhaps even from a misdirection of good in- 
tentions, may destroy the happiness of those who 
have deserved best at his hands. To deal with such 
a man is even more dangerous sometimes than to 
cope with an avowed enemy. Under extremely 



D4 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

favourable circumstances, indeed, and where the 
opportunities of personal judgment and action are at 
ijhe minimum, and the counsels of good advisers 
most influential, such a man may pass through life 
without doing much, or even any mischief, and may 
leave behind him chiefly the impression created by 
an amiable disposition, and a kindly wish to act 
rightly and pleasantly towards all men. But place 
such a man in a position of power and responsibility, 
where frequent action is demanded, and sound judg- 
ment on men and things is a constantly pressing 
necessity, and the moral depravation of the character 
may be incalculable, and the mischievous results to 
others may be irreparable. Such a position was 
that of Henry the Third. From his earliest years 
he was placed in a situation which demanded the 
exercise of more than ordinary sagacity, and in this 
quality he was unfortunately entirely wanting. Weak 
men, who have been thus dangerously forced into 
action, are divided in the course they pursue into 
two classes. In the one class the mental incapacnw 
takes the form of overweening self-confidence, and 
their conduct is consequently marked by a total dis- 
regard of the opinion and counsels of everyone else. 
Perhaps this is the less dangerous class, since we 
<?an ascertain with some certainty the tendencies and 
limits of the incapacity, from our knowledge of the 
personal character of the self-sufficient fool, and so • 
can guard to some extent against the consequences 



HENRY THE THIRD. 95 

of his folly. But there is another class, who are 
sufficiently conscious of their own incapacity of form- 
ing a correct judgment as to any course of action, 
and who consequently are never happy unless they 
are consulting and confiding absolutely in other men. 
If there were any reliance to be placed on the con- 
stancy of this dependence, we might, even here, be 
to a certain extent assured as to the future. But 
w r ith many of this class the distrust of their own 
abilities, which leads them to consult and throw 
themselves on another man, leads them also after a 
time to distrust their own judgment of that man's 
capacity for giving them good advice, or his dispo- 
sition to do so ; and then, hastily throwing off their 
adviser, they repose as implicitly on the suggestions 
of some new counsellor, to whom their weak nature 
has been drawn by some chance, or in whose hands 
they have been persuaded to place themselves by 
designing intriguers. It is hopeless to attempt to 
anticipate the course of action of a man so swayed 
to and fro, and it is quite vain to hope to guard 
against the consequences of his vacillating confi- 
dences. Such a man was Henry the Third. A 
modern writer says of him : — ' Henry spent his life 
in pitiable alternations between blind confidence and 
almost ludicrous mistrust. De Burgh, Des Roches, 
Peter of Bivaulx, Segrave, Montfort, and many more 
experienced the same treatment, — the result, pro- 
bably, not so much of caprice, in the common sense 



96 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of the word, as of a clinging weakness of character 
and a conscious inability to estimate the men by 
whom he was served. A suspicion which he was 
incapable of forming for himself unnerved his weak 
judgment when presented by another, and he fancied 
himself betrayed and undone by the man to whom 
but an hour before he would have trusted everything.' 
Henry not only found it impossible to make up his 
mind on any subject without referring to the counsels 
of those who swayed him for the time, but he could 
hardly ever be relied on, even by them, for continu- 
ing long in the same resolution. A curious example 
of this is presented in his matrimonial negotiations. 
It seemed as if he would never be married. Fair re- 
presentatives of Brittany, Austria, Bavaria, Bohemia, 
and the Counts of Bigorre and Ponthieu appeared 
successively in the field, only to be dismissed again, 
seemingly without a reason. At last Eleanor of 
Provence was in the ascendant, and her he ulti- 
mately married, her sister, the Queen of Prance, 
writing significantly that she will not detain her 
sister, lest Henry should change his mind. 

It is very difficult to estimate the moral rank of 
such a man. As I have said, it is possible, under 
peculiar circumstances, that he may be and remain a 
good man. But it will be seen at once that his 
incapacity for action may also, not improbably, 
be indicative of a similar incapacity to resist tempta- 
tions to evil. How far such deviations from the 



HENRY THE THIRD. 97 

right may be conscious and intentional, and how far 
they may be the results of a sheer incapacity to 
discern the limits of right and wrong, it is not so 
easy to decide. Henry was certainly not in his 
nature an evil-disposed man, like his father John. 
On the contrary, he appears to have been a kindly, 
well-meaning man, so far as his blind prejudices and 
equally blind confidences would allow. He did not 
probably desire to do anything which he did not for 
the time fancy that he had a right to do, and he 
probably never wished to wantonly inflict ill on any 
man. He preferred doing kind actions to the re- 
verse, and he would always rather think well of a 
man than the contrary, if his weak, self- distrustful 
nature, so easily imposed on, would only have allowed 
him to continue to think well of him. But he might 
be persuaded to think any evil of any man, and 
under the influence of this belief, he might be led to 
commit the grossest injustice, and sometimes (though 
not so frequently) acts of severe cruelty. His offences, 
however, against morality lay chiefly in the direction 
of absence of good faith. He was so constantly un- 
true to himself, and so often believed, and did one 
day what he had thoroughly rejected and opposed 
the previous day, that he seems to have lost all idea 
of the sanctity or obligations of a solemn promise or 
a deeply-plighted engagement. A more willing or 
shameless perjurer there has scarcely ever existed. 
On this point he had no scruples, and conscience 

H 



98 ESTIMATES 0E~ THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

appeared to be utterly dead. Yet with, all his fickle- 
ness and falseness, Henry was never hated as his 
father John was. Men felt at times that he was 
intolerable, and that he must be deposed, or sus- 
pended from the regal functions. But, personally, 
though he was much despised, he was regarded with 
the compassionate allowance which manifest weak- 
ness of character often inspires in stronger minds, 
even when the injury suffered from it has been con- 
siderable. Henry was subject to violent fits of 
passion, during which he behaved in the most un- 
kinglike manner. But his resentment after it had 
expressed itself in the first impulsive act of fury was 
not of a permanently enduring character. His will 
was too feeble and changeable to admit of his being 
lastingly vindictive, and he was spiteful rather than 
revengeful. Like most of his race he was very 
superstitious, and he was more really devout, so far 
as the outward ceremonies of religion were con- 
cerned, than most of them. He had a real reverence 
for sacred things, and men of truly saintly character 
were always regarded by him with respectful and 
admiring awe. But he was not restrained from his 
perjuries or any offences by religious influences, 
and he had as little scruple in plundering and 
oppressing the clergy as in the case of the laity. 
Both alike experienced the evils of his extortions as 
they did of his general misrule. He was from his 
very nature incapable of keeping money in his ex- 



HENRY THE THIRD. 99 

chequer, aud he was equally unscrupulous in the 
means he employed to replenish his coffers. Like 
many weak persons, he seems to have had the idea 
that all men owed certain duties to him, without any 
reciprocal acts being due on his part. He was made 
to spend, and they were made to find the money for 
his expenditure, — and he had a genuine sense of 
being injured, if his subjects refused to continue to 
supply his extravagance and foster his misgovern- 
ment. 

It need not be said that the nature of his govern- 
ment vacillated with the paramount influence to 
which he was for the time subject. Now it was kept 
in some degree of order, and made conformable as 
much as possible to law and justice, under the guar- 
dianship of the Earl Marshal and the tutelage of 
Stephen Langton. Then came the firm, energetic, 
but somewhat oppressive rule of Pandulf, when for a 
time England became a dependency, in fact as well 
as in name, of the Court of Rome. The downfall of 
this was followed by the ascendancy and just but 
unbending rule of Hubert de Burgh, on whose over- 
throw the King, for the first time, was able to in- 
dulge his own natural tastes without restraint, and 
the rule ensued of the Foreign Favourites, which 
precipitated the civil wars. Yet through all these 
changes of administration the King's thoughtless 
and purposeless extravagance exercised a more or 
less deleterious influence over the course of affairs. 

H 2 



100 ESTIMATES OF*THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Favouritism is, as I have said, an almost unavoid- 
able imputation against Kings, whose personal friend- 
ships must of necessity assume much of that character, 
and with such a weak man as Henry of Winchester 
it was only natural that the favouritism should 
appear in the most undesirable form. He did not,, 
like John, wilfully prefer bad men, but he took men r 
good or bad, just as they caught his fancy and mas- 
tered his understanding. Now it was a Des Eoches 
or a De Valence ; now it was De Montfort. But he 
had a peculiar liking for foreigners as such, in pre- 
ference to Englishmen or Anglo-Normans. Whether 
or not owing to the blood he inherited from his 
mother, Isabella of Angouleme, or to that derived 
from his grandmother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, he was 
essentially Aquitainian or Provencal in his cast of 
mind and his tastes, though it was the Aquitainian 
type in its feeblest and most degraded form. He 
was not devoid, indeed, of personal courage, but his 
whole cast of character was effeminate. The some- 
what stern energy of his Anglo-Norman subjects 
annoyed, and their want of refinement disgusted 
him, and he sought friends and associates in the 
Continental school of manners. In accordance with 
his character, he had not the deep and more serious 
learning of his Angevin ancestors, and cared little 
for what we should call learned men. But he took 
much pleasure in poetry and romances, and his 
devoutness and his aesthetic tastes both found a 



HENRY THE THIRD. 101 

noble expression in the Abbey at Westminster. His 
wife, Eleanor of Provence, was herself a poetess, and 
a member of a highly accomplished family. Henry 
may (if he reasoned at all on the matter) have justi- 
iied his advancement of foreigners to high office in 
England, by the fact that he was the Sovereign of 
Continental as well as insular provinces, and that 
Anglo-Normans ruled for the most part in Guienne 
and Gascony. There was the important difference, 
however, that the presence and rule of Englishmen 
were sought and demanded by the towns of South 
France as a protection against their own feudal 
oppressors, while in England town and country alike 
revolted against the rule of aliens. Yet we cannot 
wonder at or much blame this partiality of Henry's 
(to which, indeed, we owe the introduction of the 
great De Montfort into the field of English politics) ; 
hut he carried it to such an excess, and showed such 
a disposition to substitute foreigners for natives in 
every branch of the Administration, local as well as 
central, that had it been submitted to, a second 
■Conquest would have been effected, and a second 
Domesday Book would have been a necessity as well 
as a project. Of course, the Barons resisted vigor- 
ously, though not with continuous concert ; and the 
rest of the reign of Henry, down to the rise of the 
influence of his son Earl Edward in the administra- 
tion, was an oscillation between Ee volution ary go- 
vernments and Royal misrule. With the ascendancy 



102 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of Earl Edward naturally began a new era in English 
history, and the personal rule of Henry almost en- 
tirely ceased. 

Such appears to me to have been the character of 
Henry of Winchester, with whom sympathies and 
tastes supplied the place of principles, and self- 
assertion found its only development in inconstancy. 
He was too weak a man to be either a good man or 
a bad man. As a King, he was simply worthless. 



103 



EDWARD THE FIRST. 

The descent of character from generation to gene- 
ration is liable to great surprises, and full of strange 
seeming caprices of nature, but never in the course of 
history has there been a more singular contrast pre- 
sented in the characters of a father and son than in 
the case of Henry the Third and Edward the First. 
With Henry the intellectual calibre of thePlantagenets 
seemed to have sunk to the lowest point, just as with 
John the moral type had been most deeply degraded. 
With Edward, the intellectual capacity rose again 
to the highest standard of the family, while morally 
there was a corresponding and nearly equal elevation 
of tone. We may safely assign to him the rank of 
the greatest of our mediaeval kings; and if I hesitate 
in acquiescing in the still higher place which has 
been claimed for him, of absolutely the greatest of 
our Kings, it is not on account of any deficiency 
in the breadth and nobleness of his ultimate ends, 
but on account of a certain narrowness in his 
conceptions of social relations which in the latter 
years of his life became more and more apparent in 



104 ESTIMATES OF 'THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the measures to which he had recourse, and which 
tarnished his reputation with something of the 
spasmodic violence of unskilful statesmanship. Still, 
this was only a shortcoming in a truly grand career — 
an imperfection in an otherwise remarkable com- 
bination of mental and moral greatness, — a blot on 
one of the fairest escutcheons that has ever hung in 
the armoury of kingly achievements. I feel that to 
do justice to a character so strong and so distinctly 
marked in its main features, and yet so complex as a 
constituent whole, is no easy task ; and I give this 
estimate with some hesitation, and with a sense of 
being open to misunderstanding on the part of my 
readers, from the difficulty I have experienced in 
making the matter clear to my own mind. 1 

Edward succeeded to the throne in the very prime 
of manhood, not as an untried man, but well known 

1 When the present estimate was composed I had not had the advan- 
tage of reading the volume entitled ' The Greatest of the Plantagenets,' 
the anonymous author of which has recently given us his views in the 
expanded and more matured form of The Life and Reign of Edward the 
Eirst.' Mr. Pearson, however, whose work I consulted with great advantage 
to myself, had seen and considered the former of these books, so that I am 
probably indirectly indebted to it also for the favourable view here taken 
of Edward's character. While I fully concur in the praise which has 
been bestowed by most competent judges on the ability of this unknown 
author, and the obligations to him of all students of English history, I 
do not feel sufficiently convinced by his arguments to induce me to 
alter my own estimate on those points on which it differs from his more 
unreserved praise of the great king intellectually and morally. I have, 
however, now ventured, on the strength of those arguments, to assign 
to the first Edward unreservedly the first place among our mediaeval 
kings. 



EDWARD THE FIRST. 105 

(so far as his character had as yet developed itself) to 
a nation towards which he had performed the two 
functions of repression and conciliation, and had filled 
the successive positions of the enemy to insurrection 
for liberty, and the moderator of a triumphant 
reaction. He may as well perhaps be introduced to 
us in the words written after his career was run, but 
while the memory of his person and the general 
fashion of his life was still fresh in the minds of 
Englishmen. A contemporary — John of London — 
thus describes him in a ' Commemoratio ' addressed 
to Edward's widow, Queen Margaret, and though 
allowance must be made for flattering exaggeration, 
the main features of the portrait seem reliable : — 
' His head spherical, his eyes round, and gentle and 
dovelike when he was pleased, but fierce as a lion's 
and sparkling with fire when he was disturbed ; his 
hair black and crisp ; his nose prominent and rather 
raised in the middle. His chest was broad ; his 
arms were agile ; his thighs long ; his feet arched ; 
his body was firm and fleshy, but not fat. He was so 
strong and active that with his hand he could leap 
into his saddle. Passionately fond of hunting, 
whenever he was not engaged in war he amused his 
leisure with his dogs and falcons. He was rarely 
indisposed, and did not lose either his teeth or sight 
by age. Temperate by habit, he never devoted 
himself to the luxuries of his palace. He never wore 
his crown after the day of his coronation, thinking it 



106 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

rather a burden than an honour. He declined the 
royal garments of purple, and went about in the 
plain and common dress of a plebeian. Being once 
asked why he did not wear richer apparel, he 
answered, with the consciousness of true greatness, 
that it was absurd to suppose that he could be more 
estimable in fine than in simple clothing. ISTo man 
was more acute in counsel, more fervid in eloquence, 
more self-possessed in danger, more cautious in 
prosperity, more firm in adversity. Those whom he 
once loved he scarcely ever forsook ; but he rarely 
admitted into his favour any that had excited his 
dislike. His liberalities were magnificent.' It 
would appear that Edward's hair as a child was of 
a light yellow colour, but became dark as he grew 
older. He was considerably above the average height, 
and very majestic in his bearing. ' His left eye had 
the same singularity of the oblique fall of the eye- 
brow which had marked his father's countenance.' 
His speech was hesitating, but in the fervour of his 
earnestness it sometimes rose into irresistible elo- 
quence. His personal courage extended to rashness, 
and even in the chase he wilfully encountered the 
risk of piercing the stags with his sword when they 
were seized, instead of using the safer hunting- spear. 
We do not know anything of the studious and 
literary side of his daily life, and perhaps in this 
respect he fell below the average standard of the 
Plantagenets, but we gather from a casual notice 



EDWARD THE FIRST. 107 

tliat he took some pleasure in the perusal of the 
chivalrous romances of his day. The learning of the 
cloister, with which several of his ancestors had been 
conversant, seems to have had as little attraction for 
him as the .clergy themselves had while he yet 
remained in the unimpaired vigour of his natural 
capacity. Such was the man in the external features 
of his life, and with this picture before us, we come 
to the consideration of the underlying stratum of his 
personal character. 

Edward stands out in contrast to the Sovereigns 
who had immediately preceded him in the distinctive 
character of a Founder. Since the Conqueror there 
had been no King of England possessing so good a 
title to that epithet ; for though there was much in 
Henry the Second which belonged to the same type 
of intellect, yet, owing, no doubt, in part to the 
peculiar circumstances of his reign, he did not in- 
augurate any organic change in English society that 
was so permanently influential as that which we owe 
to the personal characteristics of Edward. Henry, 
indeed, re-established social order and a system of 
administrative justice ; but the ideas which lay at 
the root of his government belonged to a transitional 
era in civilisation, while those on which the polity of 
Edward was built up still form constituent elements 
in our social and political constitution at the present 
day. If to the Barons in the time of John and 
Henry the Third we are indebted for the preservation 



108 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of the earlier landmarks of our national liberties, and 
the progressive conservatism of our national spirit, 
and if to Simon de Montfort in particular we owe the 
first emphatic recognition of the bases of our repre- 
sentative government, it is to Edward the First that 
we must in justice refer the first regular operation 
of our present constitutional system as the established 
order of things, recognised as such, however unwil- 
lingly, by the King as well as by the other bodies 
of the State. Thenceforward the Constitutional sys- 
tem in England gained a vantage-ground of prece- 
dent from which not all the anarchy and misgovern- 
ment of succeeding generations were able to dislodge 
it, and with this reign the history of the ( English 
Constitution,' as distinctively so called, may be said 
to begin. 

There was much in Edward's character to render 
him peculiarly qualified to undertake the great office 
of the inaugurate of a system of government. He 
combined the excessive regard for prescriptive rights 
and precedents, which is our national characteristic, 
with the love of system, and the administrative mar- 
tinetism of our French neighbours. The excessive 
legality of his mind has been remarked upon, 1 and 
was at once its strength and its weakness. He wor- 
shipped precedent, and prescriptive rights found in 

1 I am indebted for my reference to this essential point in the 
•character of Edward to Mr. Pearson, whose sketch of the reign of that 
King forms the most able portion of his valuable 'History of England.' 



EDWARD THE FIEST. 109 

him a willing and active supporter ; and his adminis- 
trative system, whether the mere executive of these, 
or springing from his own conceptions of right, was 
always clothed most scrupulously in the rigid forms 
of legal precision. So far as he himself was respon- 
sible for this system, it was generally actuated 
by wise and always by anxiously just intentions, 
though this justice was not unfrequently lost or dis- 
sipated amidst the inexorable logic and unbending* 
formalities of the administrative procedure through 
which it was sought to carry it out. In this point 
of view, his mind was almost too constructive, for it 
rested with a sense of almost equal importance on 
the symmetry and perfection of the details, and on 
the main object to be achieved. This respect for 
precedent, this love of orderly procedure, and this 
strong sense of justice, were no doubt the results of a 
reaction in Edward's character from the irregularity 
of the preceding reign, in which he had been an 
impatient but not unobservant spectator, and at 
first a rather turbulent actor. The loose and un- 
disciplined state of society during that reign had 
faithfully reflected the nerveless and limp constitution 
of his father's mind. Unstrung both in his moral 
and intellectual organisation, Henry had been the 
kindly, well-intentioned agent of manifold injustices, 
which destroyed that respect for authority which i& 
the foundation of social order. Edward's mind was 
only too rigidly strung, and in his excessive desire to- 



110 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

prevent licentious irregularities, as well in the ad- 
ministrator as in the subject, he sometimes forgot 
to allow for the free play of those popular feelings by 
a regard to which the wisest theory must (to be 
efficacious) be more or less limited in its mode of 
operation. But an excess on this side was perhaps 
called for by the circumstances of the time, and was 
-certainly welcome to a people tired of oscillations 
between licence and tyranny. The feeling which 
Edward managed to impress on the mind of the 
nation, that however severe or even unjust might be 
the operation of his administrative system, he him- 
self was upright in his intentions and purposes, 
tended to calm the troubled waters of society, and to 
establish a sense of permanent legal government, the 
recollection of which was never again thoroughly lost. 
There was the great simplicity of true earnestness in 
the King's desire to do what was right by his people ; 
and this, no doubt, had the effect of taking away 
from his system atising the uncongenial impersonality 
which often attends the assertion of orderly law. 
He was a lawyer in the keen precision of his intellect, 
but withal a man of strong sensibilities as well as 
strong personal will. If in one respect he represented 
in himself the rigid inflexibility of Law, in another 
his strong personal identification with the Law gave 
to even his most unsympathising acts something of 
the effect of a personal contact between his mind and 
that of each of the subjects of his administration. 



EDWARD THE EIEST. Ill 

Thus while he sank Person in System, he personified 
System itself, and to obey the Law became a syn- 
onym in the minds of all for obedience to Edward. 
That his legality and systematising should have 
been thus blended with intense personality arose, no 
donbt, from another side of Edward's character — that 
in which he presents himself to us as a self-willed 
man, with strong, absolutist tendencies — imperious, 
impatient of restraints, with all the insensibility to 
suffering in others of one who is strong in endurance 
himself. That there was this element — to some 
extent a conflicting element — in the character of 
Edward there can be little doubt. It was decidedly 
in the ascendant during the first and during the last 
periods of his life — before experience, and the study 
of his great master and enemy, De Montfort, had 
sobered him into statesmanship, and again, in ad- 
vancing age, when bodily infirmities and disappointed 
scheming had weakened and embittered his mind. 
But in the prime of his life, which includes the 
largest portion of his reign, Edward's mind was a 
happy union of these two strangely-coupled elements, 
each of which supplemented and corrected the other. 
He was not quite unbearably systematic, because he 
was also so strongly personal in his acts. He was 
not too imperiously absolutist in his ideas, because 
he had so strong a feeling as to the established rights 
of others. He was not implacable or unforgiving in 
many of the great crises of his career, because he 



112 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

was personally so strong and self-reliant as to scorn 
the feebleness of revenge on those who were for the 
time powerless. He had too strong an association 
in his mind between wise mercy and justice itself to 
be wantonly or willingly cruel. It is a fact, that if 
we except the few last years of his life, there is 
scarcely one, if one, of our English Kings who can 
compare with the poet's ' ruthless King/ in acts of 
leniency and repeated forgiveness of injuries. That 
the fiercer spirit was only chained, not permanently 
exorcised, became too apparent ere his reign closed ; 
but the provocation which led to the snapping of the 
restraining bonds had been very great, and while we 
condemn and deplore the actual outbreak, we must 
give additional credit to the nobler nature which had 
so long kept the evil passion impotent. If Scotland 
can justly cast up against him the treatment of 
Wallace and the determined ignoring of that national 
will, which found an organ at last in Kobert Bruce, 
we must remember that there is another side to the 
tale of the Scotch negotiations, in which Edward 
appears as the wise and punctiliously scrupulous 
arbitrator between conflicting factions in that country, 
called in by all parties, and acknowledged as Suzerain 
by all who at that time were considered as entitled 
to a voice in the decision of Scotland's destinies. 
As far as the barons and clergy of Scotland are con- 
cerned, the case of Edward seems irresistibly strong, 
and we can have as little sympathy, in that point of 



EDWARD THE FIRST. 113 

view, with Bruce as with Balliol or Comyn, or any 
other of the selfish semi-feudal and semi-patriarchal 
chiefs who alternately invited and deceived the 
English King. It is only when we look at the na- 
tional feeling of Scotland, as it found vent gradually, 
first through the rising but little estimated burghs, 
and then through the leadership of a simple country 
gentleman, that we feel that our sympathies ought 
to change sides, and that Edward, in ignoring this 
feeling, and refusing to see any but unauthorised in- 
surgents outside the pale of feudal law, was carried 
away by an unfortunate combination of his excessive 
legality of mind with his imperious spirit, checked as 
it was at the moment of the realisation of his wise 
and long-cherished wish for a peaceful consolidation 
of the two portions of the island. He never suc- 
ceeded in realising the idea so finely expressed by 
Wordsworth : — 

The power of armies is a visible thing, 
Eormal and circumscribed in time and space ; 
But who the limits of that power shall trace, 
Which a brave people into light can bring, 
Or hide at will, — for freedom combating, 
By just revenge inflamed ? 

Wales, which has been a fertile source of invective 
against Edward, might well instead claim him as her 
greatest benefactor. So far as he himself is concerned, 
his conduct towards her and her faithless princes 
seems to have been unexceptionable, and his leniency 
towards the conquered and his frequent forgiveness of 

i 



114 ESTIMATES OF 'THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the treacheries with, which he was requited, are as 
indisputable as the justice and liberality of his admi- 
nistration of the Principality, when conquered, is 
confessedly remarkable. That he turned his attention 
to the consolidation of the island under one system 
of government, instead of frittering away the national 
strength on Continental projects, is a great merit, and 
not the less so because the extent to which he had 
committed himself to this idea brought on him the 
severest internal struggle between him and his people 
that he experienced during his reign. The retention 
of the province of Guienne had so completely ceased 
to be an object of national ambition, that when 
Edward's sense of duty to his Continental subjects 
called him imperatively to their aid, he was crippled 
and nearly ruined in his enterprise by the refusal of 
his feudal vassals to follow him beyond seas, and he 
found himself, under cover of armed resistance to his 
demands, compelled at last, though the act was wrung 
from him as if drawn from his very life-blood, to 
grant such concessions and make such solid renunci- 
ations of illegal practices, that the contest between 
Constitutionalism and Absolutism in England was 
closed for his lifetime, and (through the force of the 
precedent) virtually decided for ever. 

The mention of this struggle leads us to the point 
in Edward's character in which the two sides of it 
are least easily harmonised. It must be remembered 
that he had received during his early life a strong bias 



EDWAED THE FIEST. 115 

against concessions of disputed branches of the Royal 
prerogative, particularly when attempted to be extor- 
ted by force of arms. As a King's son, he in his heart 
believed in the justice of the pretensions of the Crown 
in these cases, and willing as he was to concede to 
other classes their just rights, he was as unwilling to 
give up what he imagined to be his own. Like a 
really true man, he resisted the more and the longer 
because it was his intention to keep the promise he 
had once made. He did, indeed, more than once in- 
fringe on rights which he had virtually promised to 
respect ; but he did so under the strong impulse of 
national preservation, and when his breach of faith 
was cast in his teeth by the assembled Barons, he was 
affected to tears at the imputation on his honour, and 
excused himself so earnestly, on the plea of the ur- 
gency of the necessity, that his deprecatory eloquence 
moved the hostile gathering not merely to condoning 
the offence, but to an additional grant of supplies 
as its constitutional supplement. As a rule, indeed, 
almost without exception, Edward's promise was 
kept sacred by him, and, if given with reluctance, 
might be safely relied upon. And a far greater 
amount of exaction and severity of administration 
than his would have been endured, while this safe- 
guard remained assured in the national mind. 

Edward, however, failed in one respect (and to this, 
as I have said, he owed his miscarriage in Scotland) 
— he had a great respect for national opinion where 

i 2 



116 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

lie Tinder stood the nation to be really represented, but 
none for the popular effervescence which cannot find 
a legal or constitutional channel, but yet represents 
forces in the heart of the nation which no wise ruler 
should disregard. By this irregular outburst of sen- 
timent, both the legal and the absolutist sides of Ed- 
ward's character were deeply offended. A demagogue 
and a popular meeting, in our sense of the term, 
would be equally incomprehensible and detestable 
to him. He had no excessive love for his feudal vas- 
sals, but he respected their legitimate position, as 
he did that of the civic corporations. But he could 
not understand or tolerate the position of a Wallace, 
who had no legal or social status as a leader of public 
opinion in the eyes of the men of that century. He 
resented this spirit of unauthoritative self-assertion 
even in the instance of the great Corporation of 
London, when it seemed to put itself forward as a 
separate power in the State, and to dictate terms 
alike to King and Barons. Much more would he 
resent a less formal representation of popular wishes 
and feelings. He was in his feelings perhaps the 
most undemocratic of all our Kings, though the con- 
solidation of popular rights is really owing more to 
him than to any English Sovereign from the Conquest 
to the grea,t Civil War. 

I have said he loved the clergy but little. Yet he 
really saved the English Church from entire sub- 
serviency to Eome, and ultimately from pecuniary 



EDWARD THE FIRST. 117 

spoliation by the Holy See. Nor was he less careful 
of what he considered to be the just rights and 
interests of the clergy than of any other body of his 
subjects. But he was determined to destroy for ever 
the semblance of a dependency of the English Crown 
on the Court of Rome ; he would suffer no co-ordinate 
authority iu England with that of the English law, 
and he was bent on extending the obligations of law 
and public service over all clerics equally with all 
laymen. In this he was supported by the rest of the 
nation very heartily, and he felt so assured of the 
isolation of the clergy, and so convinced of the base- 
lessness of their claims to exemption, and of the 
danger of allowing this insurgent spirit to go un- 
crushed, that he instructed a knight to address the 
Convocation in the following terms : ' Reverend 
fathers, if there be anyone among you who dares to 
contradict the Royal will, let him stand forth, that 
his person may be known and noticed as of one who 
has broken the King's peace.' And on another 
occasion, a clergyman deputed by his brethren to 
present their remonstrance to the King died of fright 
at the awful face of wrath with which the King re- 
ceived him. By the Statute of Mortmain Edward 
laid the axe to the root of the tree of clerical a go-ran- 
disement, and placed an insurmountable barrier to 
the subjection of the State to the Church, which at 
one time seemed imminent. 

In his expulsion of the Jews, Edward did not rise 



118 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

above, but lie faitlafully represented, the wishes of all 
classes of his subjects ; and if the act detracts from 
his reputation on a wider platform, it cannot be said 
to have sprung from any special or exceptional 
characteristic of his own. He may have hated them 
always, as a zealous Crusader; but as a King he 
showed no exceptional animosity towards them ; 
indeed, he raised the murmurs of his subjects by 
alleviating, to the utmost of his power, the circum- 
stances of their banishment ; and by that banishment 
he, as King, lost a great amount of extraordinary 
and indefinite contributions of money. 

The private life of Edward, at least from the time 
he attained manhood, was pure and high-toned. It 
is recorded that in his youth he loved to gather 
around him some of the free-lances and loose buckler- 
companions of those disordered times, and gave them 
great licence. This, perhaps, was the origin of the 
stories of his rencontres and personal contests and 
courtesies with Eobin Hood and other outlaws of popu- 
lar fame. But as a husband Edward's relations were 
happy and truly worthy of his great character. His 
first wife, a Castilian princess, was one of the best 
and most devoted of those who have borne the title of 
Queen, and the affection of that stern and resolute man 
towards her was as deep and enduring. But the nature 
which was not too stern to be full of gentle affection 
towards a high-minded wife became, unfortunately, 
hard and unsympathetic towards an unworthy and 



EDWARD THE FIRST. 119 

effeminate son, and England probably suffered not a 
little from those passionate outbursts of indignation 
which destroyed all confidence between father and 
son, and hence all influence for good on the character 
of the latter. . 

I have endeavoured to point to some leading 
aspects of the character of Edward the First, but his 
mind was so many-sided that I cannot hope to have 
fully expressed the Man, although I may have given 
some idea of the King. He has been frequently 
called the English Justinian, and he certainly com- 
bined in himself the presence and strong will of an 
Emperor with the instincts and genius of a Legisla- 
tive Founder. 



. 120 



EDWARD THE SECOND. 

Once more the greatness of the House of Plantagenet, 
which had grown to such dimensions under the first 
Edward, was destined to dwindle, if not to the 
proportions of the third Henry, at least to those of 
decided mediocrity. Edward of Caernarvon, as he 
was distinctively called, was not an essentially feeble 
character, but a feeble and bad copy of a higher type 
of mind. The handsome face, not unpleasing in 
itself, but made unattractive by its unmeaning and 
almost vacant expression, was the index of a charac- 
ter in which considerable abilities, strong feelings, 
and refining tastes were neutralised or distorted into 
gross defects, by the absence not only of all high 
motive, but of all significant purpose. There must 
have been from the first some essential ingredient 
wanting in the composition of Edward, but there 
can be no doubt that the natural deficiency was 
aggravated by the circumstances of his early life. 
Great men and strong men are not, as a rule, the 
most happy in the management of their children. 
Either they have too decided theories, or they have 



EDWARD THE SECOND. 121 

too limited sympathies, to accommodate themselves 
to the demands and shortcomings of domestic life. 
They either cannot tolerate the insubordination of 
their own flesh and blood to their own peculiar ideas, 
or presume on the existence in their offspring of 
instincts of greatness and though tfulness, the former 
of which are rare in young or old, and the latter of 
which are incompatible with the characteristics of all 
but a very exceptional childhood. Edward the First, 
though a stern man from the gravity of his character, 
was not an unkindly man in his personal relations ; 
and his conduct towards his son, in early years, 
however injudicious, was not such as to challenge 
criticism on the ground of undue severity. Young 
Edward was left without the care of a mother at a 
very early age, and although he seems to have suffered 
less in some respects from that loss than many do, in 
consequence of the kindly and sympathising treat- 
ment he experienced from his stepmother, there 
can be little doubt that in the death of Eleanor of 
Castile he lost that delicate and discriminatino: or od- 
sense and that elevated tone which no mere 
sympathy and affection can replace. His father, too, 
in the yearning agony of his own deeply felt loss, 
seems to have sought relief in surrounding the 
orphan child with every luxury and indulgence that 
his own stately ideas of the royal position could 
suggest. He made the young prince the centre of a 
little Court, as brilliant in its exterior as he vainly 



122 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

believed it was elevating in its internal influences. 
He wished his son to feel like a king, so he brought 
him up in a life of kingly magnificence. The charac- 
ter of young Edward was eminently one to deceive a 
prepossessed spectator, such as a father naturally is, 
as to his real bent and capacity. As I have said, he 
was an imperfect imitation of something much 
greater and better; and any such indications of 
character, however slight and transient, would arrest 
the attention and be exaggerated in the mind of a 
paternal theorist. He would recognise in his son the 
symptoms of many of his own early feelings, before 
experience had strengthened and modified them; 
and remembering how his own self-reliant character 
had ripened and expanded under the most unfavour- 
able circumstances, he might well believe that a 
character which seemed to indicate such points of 
similarity would similarly grow up to perfection 
under more auspicious influences. Perhaps he was 
not unconscious of the too great tension, not to say 
hardness, of his own mind, and attributing this to 
the severity of the school of discipline to which he 
had been subjected, sought to soften its tone in his 
young son. His plan seems to have been to place 
around young Edward those who would control but 
sympathise with his tastes, to maintain a watchful 
eye over the general expenditure of the household, 
but leave everything else to the operation of natural 
character. The result was that the Prince, surrounded 



EDWARD THE SECOND. 123 

by pliant flatterers, who were afraid probably to 
mortify the King by telling him the real character of 
his son, lost all idea of self-discipline, and allowed 
his mind to fall into a perfect chaos of imperfect 
sympathies, unfulfilled plans, inordinate fancies, and 
wilful irresolution and vacillation. When this cha- 
racter at last displayed itself in its true colours to 
the undeceived father, the result was a violent reac- 
tion from blind confidence to extreme reprobation, 
to which disappointment and wounded pride gave 
additional bitterness. The insolent insouciance with 
which young Edward paraded his vices before his 
father's eyes, as well as the public, and the cool 
effrontery with which he preferred his most un- 
palatable requests to the King himself, stung the 
latter into a frenzy of rage, and destroyed all chance 
of a mutual understanding. His favourite tastes 
were music and horses, but no taste and no object 
seemed to have a paramount or abiding hold on his 
mind. He was always changing his plans and his 
wishes, and the only thing in which he appeared to 
exhibit any constancy was in his attachment to 
persons. On those to whom he once took a fancy it 
seemed as if his wandering mind concentrated itself 
with a fixed intensity in proportion to his general 
levity. Nothing was too great a favour to be 
bestowed on them, and the idea of any limits or 
proportions to his favouritism seems to have been 
wholly wanting. It appeared as if the penury of 



124 ESTIMATES 01- THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

friendship in which a long line of ancestors had 
lived was to be expiated by a plethora of the relation 
in its most unwholesome quality. Whether the fa- 
voured objects of this princely affection w^ere origi- 
nally unworthy or not, they seem to have all become 
tainted with the same evil results of favouritism, 
— excessive and insolent arrogance, and unbri- 
dled covetousness paid licence. There was much in 
f he character of Piers Gaveston, the chief favourite 
-of Edward's earlier years, which might under 
happier auspices have ripened into something much 
nobler. He had considerable abilities, though seem- 
ingly little depth of character; and he had all the 
accomplishments of the day in an eminent degree, 
and, at any rate, an external refinement of manners 
above that of the surrounding nobility. But he 
became, under the influence of this unbridled fa- 
vouritism, so intolerable that his ultimate murder 
(for it was little better) excited no commiseration 
except in his bereaved friend and master. So it was 
with the younger Le Despenser, who succeeded to 
this post of head-favourite. One example of the 
relation in which the reigning favourite stood to 
the King and his subjects will suffice as an illus- 
tration of the whole subject. Walter cle Why tie- 
see, one of the monks of Peterborough, tells us that 
when the King, with Gaveston, visited that place, 
the abbot sent him a cup worth fifty pounds. The 
King immediately inquired whether Piers had 



EDWAKD THE SECOND. 125 

received any present, and being' answered in the 
negative, he refused to accept the gift. The abbot,, 
hearing of this, sent to Gaveston a cup of the value 
of forty pounds, who took it with a courteous air and 
thanks. The messenger then asking the favourite if 
the other cup was worthy of the King's acceptance,, 
and being told it was, mentioned to Piers that it had 
been refused. Gaveston called his chamberlain, and 
gave him these orders, — 6 Go to Lord Edward, and 
tell him that I am willing he should receive the 
abbot's present.' The officer carried the rejected 
cup to Edward with this message, and the King* 
then eagerly took it, and thanked the abbot for his- 
liberality. 

Gaveston, at least, may be said to have wilfully 
thrown away one of the greatest chances of recon- 
ciling the favour of the King with the good-will of 
the people that was ever offered to a Royal 
favourite, for his first offences had been so far 
condoned by the Barons, that a contemporary 
historian, singularly thoughtful and unprejudiced, in 
his judgments, declares it to be his decided opinion, 
that if the favourite had thenceforth conducted 
himself prudently and unostentatiously, or if the 
King, preserving his attachment to his friend, had 
conducted himself with due consideration to his 
nobles, their opposition would have ceased. For the 
favouritism of Edward was attended with this un- 
fortunate accompaniment, that he could not show his 



126 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

affection for one man without exhibiting insolent 
contempt towards another. It seemed as if it 
needed this foil of counter- ill-treatment of others to 
complete his feeling of perfect friendship towards 
any one. And unluckily his dislike generally mani- 
fested itself towards those of high rank, just as his 
preferences were in the greater number of instances 
(when he was left to his own choice) for those in a 
low class of life. Gaveston was, indeed, the son of a 
Gascon gentleman, and Despenser of an English 
baron; but these had been first placed about his 
person, the one by the old King himself, the other 
by the Barons from among themselves, as a safe 
person to engage the King's fancy. But his other 
favourite associates from his early years appear to 
have been born of a very low class, and in his 
converse with them Edward seems to have lost all 
sense of decorum, and of the reserve due to his 
royal and even his personal dignity. The c minstrels ' 
and idle persons with whom as a youth he surrounded 
himself, found a counterpart in his later years in the 
* mariners ' and rough and lawless people whose 
society he was accused of frequenting overmuch. 
He thus debased in the eyes of the nation two of his 
most blameless tastes, — his passion for music, and 
his love of ships and of the sea. It seemed as if 
he could not endure that an}~one should enjoy a 
recognised position of dignity which was not derived 
from his own favour, and he revenged himself on 



EDWARD THE SECOND. 127 

• 

hereditary rank by ostentatiously preferring plebeian 
company and parvenus. The Barons of England, 
whom a great King bad not been able to overbear by 
his imperial force of character, were not likely to 
endure patiently insults such as these from one 
wliose tastes they could not appreciate, and- whose 
whole character they thoroughly despised. It is 
hardly worth while to discuss the question of the 
amount of truthfulness possessed by Edward. He 
looked on promises as mere coin of the realm in 
which he might pay his debts or buy off opposition, 
and which when necessary he lavished freely, without 
Tegard to the past or the future. It is probable that 
his moral sensibilities were never sufficiently alive to 
the nature of truth to make his violations of it a 
serious moral crime in him. He was simply a liar 
when it suited him, just as he told the truth when a 
lie was not necessary. Except in the prior order in 
which perhaps it suggested itself to his mind, truth 
had probably with him no preference. 

The word frivolous, perhaps, expresses most ex- 
actly the stamp of Edward the Second's mind. His 
fitful energy, such as it was, never inspired any 
feeling of respect in friends or adversaries. He was 
personally brave, without gaining any of the re- 
putation attaching to physical courage; he was 
generous, without creating an abiding sense of 
grateful obligation, and lavish without giving the 
impression of magnificence; he was excessive and 



128 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

persistent in his friendships, without securing in his 
favourites that respect which is the essential basis 
of true friendship ; his activity, though considerable 
when he was once roused, never effaced the general 
impression of his indolent apathy ; his greatest con- 
cessions and personal sacrifices to the demands of 
his subjects or of the occasion were so manifestly 
unreal, that they never produced the effect of solemn 
guarantees; his most harmless and praiseworthy 
tastes became occasions of scornful criticism by the 
manner in which he pursued them, and his natural 
perceptions of a social refinement superior to the 
hardy but coarse habits of life prevalent among his 
baronial aristocracy were robbed of much of their 
essential delicacy, and of nearly all their effective 
influence over others, by being associated with 
pursuits of a low or, at any rate, undignified 
character. From the first, Edward appears to have 
formed no definite plan of life, except one of self- 
enjoyment for the passing hour. He had no 
foresight, and made no attempt to think beforehand, 
except when animated by the impulses of eager 
desire for fresh pleasures, or an intense thirst for 
revenge. For his mind, loosely knit in other points, 
was capable of retaining implacable resentments. 
He confounded the love of peace with indolence, 
refinement with luxury, independence with self- 
indulgence, and a strong administration with the 
destruction of all opponents of his free exercise of a 



EDWAKD THE SECOND. 129 

wanton will. He seemed to have been born to throw 
discredit on possible virtues, even more than to point 
the moral of positive vices. His character was full 
of suggestions of something better, and occasionally 
of something great ; but it contained no realisation 
of anything. If the kindliness of Henry the Third's 
character saved him from the dislike which many of 
his actions merited, this dislike was called forth and 
deepened continually in the mind of the nation to- 
wards Edward the Second by the very buoyancy of 
his temperament. It must have seemed to them 
that a Prince who could treat life and sovereignty 
with such gay levity, was not entitled to the allow- 
ance which might be made for those who acted 
erroneously or even unjustly under a more solemn 
sense of the weight of their responsibility. A mere 
triner who violates national rights, outrages national 
sentiments, and executes national champions, must 
not expect to inspire even the ordinary respect of 
hatred. A feeling of contemptuous aversion and 
disgust became predominant throughout England, 
which seemed to clamour for a punishment igno- 
minious in its cruelty. The King who degraded the 
royal dignity by low companionships and undue 
familiarities 1 perished himself, at length, from the 



1 It has been suggested to me since I wrote the above, that the 
peculiar detestation with which the memory of Edward the Second was 
regarded in his own times, sprang in a great measure from the popular 
belief in the criminal character of his relations with his favourites. I 



K 



130 ESTIMATES OF 'THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

destruction in the people of all respect for the Boyal 
person. And so it was that, without being by any 
means the worst of our English Kings, so far as 
respects actual moral delinquency, Edward the Second 
went to his grave less regretted and less respected 
probably than any King before or after him. It is 
enough condemnation of him to say that he was his 
father's son, and yet that he died hated and despised 
by the English nation. 

fail however to discover, in the tone in which this offence is referred to 
in the writers of that age, any sufficient support to this explanation. 



131 



EDWARD THE THIRD. 

Few English, kings have left behind them so great a 
reputation in the chroniclers, and yet few kings are 
so slightly delineated in their personal characteristics 
as Edward the Third. Everybody thinks of him as 
a sort of impersonation of the spirit of chivalry, bnt 
beyond this, few, I believe, have any definite ideas 
concerning him, and beyond this the chroniclers 
themselves preserve to ns but few traits. Their 
antithetical summaries of his character are but 
faintly discriminating panegyrics, which approach 
too much to the nature of tombstone memorials to 
be very useful in an analysis of the man, though 
they may give us some general idea of his stamp as 
a king. And it is, in fact, only through a considera- 
tion of his kingly qualities that we can at all deduce 
any idea of the personal character of Edward. He 
began to reign with the cares at least, if not the 
responsibilities of a ruler, from his very boyhood, 
and his personal life was so interwoven with that of 
the nation, that to separate the two is impossible, 
until the shadows of his last melancholy years obscure 
the kingly presence, and leave only the wretched 

K 2 



132 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

and common-place picture of a doting and disrepu- 
table old man. His reputation, which was for so 
many centuries looked upon as an integral part of 
the national treasury of glory, has of late years 
suffered a considerable diminution in the estimates 
of historians, 1 and I am inclined to think to a 
somewhat unjust extent ; for, though I am not 
disposed to dispute the truth of the verdict which 
displaces him from the pinnacle he so long occupied 
as the greatest of our kings, I still think that a 
character may be safely assigned to him which 
places him decidedly above the average of English 
^Royalty. The modern reaction against mere mili- 
tary glory, and the idea that Edward engaged in his 
French and Scotch wars through ambition or mere 
love of fighting, and was himself nothing more than 
a brave knight, have, I believe, carried away some 
able writers from a wider and fairer consideration of 
his qualities, and have reduced their estimate to 
something like a sermon against selfish ambition 
and bloodshed. 

Edward the Third's character stands in a very 
remarkable relation as well as contrast to that of his 
father. Edward the Second, as we have already 
seen, was a bad copy and imperfect realisation of 

1 This was written "before I had read Mr. Freeman's unfavourable 
estimate of Edward lately republished in his collected essays. This able 
paper, which represents a view of the character which I had once my- 
self adopted, does not alter my later judgment, which was formed on a 
more careful and minute consideration of the facts. 



EDWAED THE THIRD. 133 

a fine character. In Edward the Third the copy 
was successfully achieved, and the conception was 
realised, but the substratum of character was much 
the same in both. In both the aesthetic and sensuous 
elements were predominant, — the love of pomp and 
luxury, the pleasure of outward display, and the ap- 
preciation of what are considered the refinements 
and mere ornaments of life. In the character of 
each there was latent a feeling that the King should 
be the social leader of the nation he governed, even 
more than her commander in war and her adminis- 
trator in peace. In neither of them was there the 
originality or the incisive force of Edward the Eirst. 
The character of both was moulded to a considerable 
extent by external circumstances, from which, how- 
ever, one alone drew lessons of wise experience. All 
three were capable of committing great acts of cruelty, 
but the cruelty which in the Eirst Edward resulted 
from an outburst of ungovernable fury in a forgiving 
nature, was in his two successors the dictate of a 
•settled resentment, which in the Second Edward was 
furtive yet implacable, in the Third Edward was open 
and hard to be appeased. But in the Third Edward 
the pageant and pomp of life rose into a stately 
magnificence, contrasting with, but not unworthy of 
comparison with, the simpler stateliness of his grand- 
father, and far above the tinsel of his wretched father. 
His luxurious tendencies were for the greater part 
of his life relieved from reproach and ennobled by 



134 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH ZINGS. 

being associated with, great purposes and energetic 
enterprises. He made himself the social centre, not 
of a little set of unworthy favourites, but (in all but 
his closing years) of the entire nation, which he 
refined without demoralising. His aesthetic tastes 
found vent in great architectural achievements, and 
his natural courtesy of demeanour never sank into 
undue familiarity, but preserved the character of 
dignified though easy condescension. He, in fact, 
was a high-bred gentleman in every sense of the 
term. But the decay of his faculties disclosed the 
inherent similarity in the tone of character between 
father and son, and the decline of Edward the Third 
approximated to the prime of Edward the Second. 

The personal appearance of Edward the Third 
corresponded to his type of character. He had not 
indeed the physical presence of his grandfather, for 
he was not above the middle height, yet such was 
the dignity of his bearing that contemporaries seem 
to have been equally impressed. He did not inspire 
awe, but he secured admiration and respect. He 
must have been very attractive, and his countenance 
appears to have fascinated spectators. He had 
handsome features, like his father, but they were 
animated with the most expressive and noble sweet- 
ness. His panegyrists speak of his expression as 
divine, and Ave may well conceive that the union of 
lofty courtesy and genial brightness in his looks 
exercised a spell over those around him which may 



EDWAKD THE THIRD. 135 

partly justify this flattering exaggeration of language. 
We are told that he loved hunting and hawking, but 
his favourite recreations from the cares of royalty 
were the chivalrous and martial exercises of the 
period — tournaments — in which he was himself a 
most accomplished proficient. Again and again, 
when the vizor of the successful champion was raised 
at the conclusion of the contest, the assembled 
crowds were excited to fresh enthusiasm by discover- 
ing that the unknown knight was no other than the 
King himself. And tournaments had a bearing and 
value much beyond the mere exhibition of a childish 
pageant. They brought together all classes of 
society, and bound them, for the time at least, in a 
connecting link of common tastes and enjoyments. 
The King emerged from his palace, the great baron 
left the dismal seclusion of his feudal castle, the 
citizen quitted his workshop, and the peasant aban- 
doned his plough, and all met together on the same 
platform of a common enjoyment and a common 
expectation. Such bonds of society were especially 
valuable in an age emerging from an exclusive and 
oligarchical feudalism, and passing into a state of 
society of which wealth and hereditary rank were 
the bases, in place of military tenures. It was this 
transitional character which imparted its charm to 
the age of chivalry, for while it retained all the 
romance of arms, it blended with this many of the 
softer and more graceful features of a higher civilisa- 



136 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

tion. The rules of courtesy and the obligations of 
humanity were still indeed placed on a very limited 
basis, so far as class distinctions were concerned, 
and the ideas which were inculcated by this 
code were often fantastic and extravagant ; but the 
tree once planted, however unsteadily, soon became 
fixed in the earth, and spreading its roots far and 
wide, passed beyond the limits of one soil, and drew 
from this more varied nurture a more luxuriant and 
a healthier growth. 

But Edward the Third was not only in sympathy 
with, but beyond his age in this point of view. He 
represented faithfully, as I have said, the spirit of 
chivalry ; but he also anticipated, to some extent, the 
predominant feeling of the age which chivalry was 
ushering in. He did not, it is true, like his father, 
seek to gratify his sociable tendencies by descending 
to familiar intercourse with men of low rank and 
habits ; on the contrary, he made companions and 
associates, in peace as well as in war, of his great 
Barons and their sons; and he thus broke more 
effectually the strength of the feudal array, by 
drawing its members away from the independence of 
their local territorial influence, than his predecessors 
had ever been able to do by force or by fraud. The 
great Baron, who previously prided himself on being 
bound to the Crown only by strictly-defined feudal 
obligations, was now comparatively powerless under 
the spell of personal association with the King and 



EDWAED THE THIRD. 137 

common sympathies and aspirations. Attendance 
on the royal wars was no longer the grudging dis- 
charge of a tax upon property, but the opening of 
a field of distinction on which, by personal feats, a 
European reputation might be established far excel- 
ling the narrow pride of a local baronial position. 
But Edward did not contract his sympathies to the 
limits of this baronial companionship, but gratified 
his hereditary predilections by also associating him- 
self, without losing his due position, with, the mass 
of the population, and especially with the middle- 
class. He lived in public, in the sight of the nation, 
seeing habitually and exchanging courtesies with, all 
classes, without lowering himself to the rank of any, 
though he naturally preferred the closer and more 
congenial companionship of the higher classes. His 
urbanity and his accessibility are spoken of in 
marked tones by the chroniclers, and from those 
qualities, after all, was derived the great reputation 
which descended to posterity in connection with his 
name. But beyond this, he has the merit of per- 
ceiving the rising influence of the middle-class, and 
of interesting himself warmly in the progress of its 
commercial prosperity. He fostered the establish.- 
ment of commercial guilds and companies, granted 
fresh privileges to civic corporations, and regulated 
his foreign alliances to a considerable extent by con- 
siderations of commercial advantage. The foreign 
commerce of England was protected by the assem- 



138 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH ZINGS. 

Wage of formidable fleets ; the complaints against or 
on behalf of English merchant ships became a pro- 
minent feature in international negotiations, and 
the rivalries of English and foreign commerce became 
an important element in the national policy. Again, 
though Edward's personal associates were of the 
aristocratic class, he turned for support in his 
government, and he recognised a responsibility in his 
administration to the middle-classes, as represented in 
the House of Commons, and especially to the re- 
presentatives of the boroughs. He anticipated the 
Tudors in making, if possible, Parliament the accom- 
plice in his public acts, and he sought even to engage 
their complicity in his foreign policy by an artful 
appeal for their advice, which the wise Commons 
respectfully declined to give. He recognised in the 
House of Commons the dominant element in the 
Parliament. He did not seek to crush the other 
orders; on the contrary, he recognised them all 
in their several spheres of influence ; but Parliament 
he recognised as the especial sphere of the middle- 
classes, and he respected and negotiated with them 
here accordingly. During the reign of Edward the 
Second the struggle had been mainly between the 
Crown and the feudal Barons, and Parliament had 
been little else than a conclave of armed vassals of 
the Crown, who browbeat others or were brow- 
beaten in their turn by an attendance of armed 
retainers. But in the reign of Edward the Third — 



EDWAKD THE THIRD. 139 

though (especially towards the close of his reign) the 
struggle between prerogative and liberty was nearly 
as vivid — the scene of contest was the floor of the 
House of Commons, and the King and the Barons 
were but accessories, or at best leaders, in struggles 
in which the benches of the House of Commons were 
canvassed by both parties for the decision of the 
quarrel. Edward the First had so far recognised the 
coming times as to collect irregular and special little 
parliaments of traders and employers of labour, to 
<nve him advice on matters connected with their 
pursuits, and to assess for him his extraordinary tax- 
ation. But taxation had been so palpably the main 
object of these appeals, that the middle-class was 
very shy of responding to them. Edward the Third 
pursued the same policy, but he made it also the 
guiding; rule of Royal proclamations and of the 
enactments which his Ministers proposed in Parlia- 
ment, and he assigned to the middle-class an authority 
on national as well as special legislation. He had 
the wisdom to encourage all corporate representations 
of the middle-class, and to recognise in them a con- 
servative instead of a subversive element of govern- 
ment. He thus (as long as his mind remained un- 
impaired) rendered himself the King of the middle- 
classes as much as of the nobles ; and he based his 
national militia quite as much on the one as on the 
other. The craftsmen and yeomen of England were 
not, as in France, the mere supernumeraries of the 



140 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

army, but its substantial strength. To have seen and 
acted thus is not the characteristic of a mere Knight- 
Errant, and however great may have been the short- 
comings of Edward in other respects, the basis of his 
character must be widened to allow for this broader 
statesmanship. 

The pages of Froissart and the other chroniclers 
of this period are so full of illustrations of the 
chivalric qualities of Edward the Third, and also of 
the less pleasing manifestations of a temperament in 
which the severer tone of Edward the Eirst supersedes 
for a time the gentler features of his grandson's mind, 
that I should only weary my readers by the repetition. 
The scene after the taking of Calais is well known, 
and the latest and most conscientious historian of 
Edward 1 is inclined to adopt Froissart's version of 
the intended cruelty and sudden relenting of that 
King on the intercession of his Queen. Another 
story, less familiar to the general reader, though also 
told by Eroissart, supports the truth of this represen- 
tation of Edward's character. The King of France 
having caused some lords who had been taken and 
exchanged by the English to be executed on suspicion 
of treason, Edward determined to retaliate upon 
Sir Herve de Leon, his prisoner, and would have 
done so, if the Earl of Derby had not thus remon- 
strated : * My Lord ! if that King Philip has rashly 
had the villany to put to death such valiant knights as 

1 Mr. William Longman. 



EFVVAKD THE THIED. 141 

these, do not suffer your courage to be tainted by it ; 
for in truth, your prisoner has nothing to do with 
this outrage. Have the goodness, then, to give him 
his liberty at a reasonable ransom.' The King 
ordered the captive knight to be brought before him, 
and said, c Ha ! Sir Herve ! Sir Herve ! my adversary, 
Philip de Yalois, has shown his treachery in too cruel 
a manner when he put to death so many knights. 
It has given me much displeasure, and it appears as 
if it were done in despite of us. If I were to take 
his conduct for my example, I ought to do the like 
to you, for you have done me more harm in Brittany 
than any other. But I shall bear it, and let him act 
according to his own will. I will preserve my own 
honour unspotted, and will allow you your liberty at a 
trifling ransom, out of my love for the Earl of Derby, 
who has requested it, but upon condition that you 
perform what I am going to ask of you.' The 
Knight replied, 'Dear Sire! I will do to the best of 
my power, whatever you shall command.' The King 
said, 'I know, Sir Herve, that you are one of the 
richest knights in Brittany, and that if I were to 
press you, you would pay me 30,000 or 40,000 crowns 
for your ransom. But you shall go to King* Philip 
de Yalois, my adversary, and tell him from me, that 
by putting so many knights to death in such a dis- 
honourable manner, he has sore displeased me ; that 
I say and maintain that he has by these means 
broken the truce he had agreed to ; that from this 



142 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

moment I consider it to be broken, and that I send 
him by you my defiance. In consideration of your 
carrying this message, I will let you off for 10,000 
crowns, which you will send to Bruges in five days 
after you shall have crossed the sea. You will also 
inform all such knights and esquires as wish to 
attend my feast not to keep away on this account, as 
we shall be right glad to see them, and they shall 
have passports for their safe return, to last for fifteen 
days after it shall be over.' The Knight gladly 
undertook and punctually performed the royal mes- 
sage. This is in itself a picture of Edward which 
needs no comment. 

His veracity is open to some question, for it seems 
to have been too much dependent on the technical 
rules of chivalry, and to have been less an instinct of 
his own mind than was the case with his grandfather. 
But if he fell below the latter in this respect, he 
certainly rose far above his father in habitual 
sincerity, and the actual deficiency was perhaps as 
much one of temperament as of conscious un- 
truthfulness. He neither rose much above nor fell 
beneath his predecessors in his resort to illegal 
measures, but he was wiser than several of them in 
recognising the expediency of timely retractation and 
concession. He was perhaps a more faithful per- 
sonal friend than a just and constant master to his 
Ministers of State. He was evidently deficient in a 
keen instinct of justice, but he was not often wantonly 



EDWARD THE THIRD. 143 

unjust ; and if not quite a reliable, he was generally 
a kindly master and administrator. 

His foreign policy has been much blamed, and the 
terrible error of claiming the Crown of France into 
which his enterprising and warlike spirit betrayed 
him showed a great falling-off from the better 
policy of Edward the First. But even this had 
the recommendation that it served as a vent to the 
warlike turbulence of his Barons, and buried the 
remembrance of civil discords and enmities under 
an accumulation of common national glories. Nor, 
considering the aggressive policy of the French 
Kings towards the English possessions in France, 
was it a gratuitously offensive policy. It might well 
appear to be a case in which there was no medium be- 
tween giving up everything and claiming* everything, 
in order to obtain a fair compromise ; and had the 
peace of Bretigni proved a more permanent settlement 
of the question, some might perhaps praise what they 
now condemn. As respects Scotland, Edward did 
but follow in the steps of his grandfather, and wiser 
than the latter, perhaps from the greater pliancy of 
his nature, he learned at last and adopted the true 
policy towards that country. 

Of the last years of this remarkable King I have 
already spoken. His grandfather's mind had also ex- 
hibited signs of decay a few years before the close 
of his reign; but then Edward the First attained the 
age of sixty-eight, while his grandson died before he 



144 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

had completed his sixty- fifth, year. Both, were called 
upon to assume a leading and active part in public 
affairs prematurely, and in both, in consequence, 
there was a premature exhaustion. But, in the case 
of Edward the First, the decay soon ended in death, 
while it continued with his grandson until scarcely a 
vestige was left of his great reputation, and he had 
become a mere puppet, scarcely responsible for his 
actions, in the hands of designing men, and an 
insolent and greedy woman. But his character 
must in justice be estimated by reference to his 
earlier years, when his mind was both vigorous and 
mature, and he will not then probably be judged 
wholly unworthy of the title of the greatest Eoyal 
leader of the whole of English society, as well as the 
first hero-King of the whole English nation. 



145 



RICHARD THE SECOND. 

To tlie dotage of a once great King succeeded the 
minority of a boy in the eleventh year of his age, and 
to a reign which (notwithstanding its melancholy 
close) had been, as a whole, one of the most brilliant 
in our annals, succeeded a period which must be 
pronounced as one of the least reputable of any as 
respects the conduct of both King and People. The 
contemporary poet, Gower, having before his eyes the 
actual state of England, thus contrasts with it the 
true ideal of government : — 

For all reason wolde this ; 
That unto him which the head is, 
The members buxome shall bowe : 
And he shulde eke their truth alowe 
With all his herte, and make them chere, 
For good eounsell is good to here. 
Although a man be wise bymselve, 
Yet is the wisdom more of twelve. 

Never has there been a time when this wise counsel 
of the poet's was more needed or more completely 
disregarded. Nowhere in English history is there a 
period in which we are so compelled by justice to 

L 



146 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

look with almost equal disapprobation on the conduct 
of all political parties, and at no time has the 
national character appeared to so little advantage. 
The King would listen to no wise counsel, the great 
men would pay no reverence to his person, and the 
mass of society was turbulent and anarchic to an 
extent almost unprecedented in this country. The 
political morality of all seemed to have degenerated, 
and the disgraceful vicissitudes of violence and 
subservience in both King and People should always 
prevent any student of our history from declaiming 
against the conduct of other nations, and dog- 
matically pronouncing it an indisputable proof of 
their incapacity for self-government or for any 
settled government at all. 

The best excuse for the conduct of Englishmen at 
this epoch lies in the unfortunate circumstances 
under which this reign commenced, and under the 
influence of which the relations of King and People 
were first formed. A child succeeded to a great 
reputation, but also to an inheritance of disaster; 
a People to the recent memory of triumphant 
success, and to the present shame of helpless and 
ignominious discomfiture. Eichard was the grandson 
and son of the heroes of Crecy and Poictiers, and he 
succeeded to the government of a country whose 
shores were devastated by the hostile fleets of that 
people to the sovereignty of whom his predecessor 
had laid claim, and a large part of whom he had 



KICHAED THE SECOND. 147 

actually succeeded in temporarily reducing under his 
authority. The elder Edward had died in dis- 
creditable obscurity, the younger had preceded him 
to the grave broken down by disease and disappoint- 
ment. The nation, one-third of whose population 
had been swept away by pestilence, and which had 
been drained of its best blood by the demands of 
military service, and straitened, if not impoverished, 
by frequent exactions of money, was demoralised by 
long-continued and latterly disastrous warfare, and 
had lost its self-respect, as well as all respect for 
constituted authorities. The old standard of faith 
had been shaken by the preaching of the Lollards, 
without the firm establishment of a new one, and the 
mind of the nation at large had been leavened rather 
with a distrust of all government and all social 
institutions than with any higher conceptions of 
right and order. The religious movement had taken 
a social turn, and the lower orders were awakening 
not only to a sense of their state of servitude, but to 
a conception of the spirit of Christianity wholly 
at variance with the distinctions of rank and class as 
well as with the exclusive canons of chivalry. Thus 
the demoralisation of the upper and middle classes was 
coeval with the first blind and blundering steps into 
freedom and self-respect of their long down-trodden 
and despised serfs; and the representatives and 
standards of social order and authority were never 
less likely to command respect, than when that 



148 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

respect was most needful to preserve both law and 
society from a terrible overthrow. The nobles, more 
and more abandoning the military career — now no 
longer a field of glory and gain — were thrown back 
on political intrigues and the desire of personal 
aggrandisement at home, and they found only too 
tempting an opening for their ambition in the feeble 
rule of a minor, surrounded by ambitious uncles, and 
, with no wise or efficient ministers to shape his policy 
or form his character. 

Under such unfavourable auspices, the son of the 
Black Prince grew up from boyhood to youth and 
manhood, and these circumstances must have had 
more than common influence over a character na- 
turally possessing many elements of both good and 
evil. Had the men placed at the side of young 
Kichard in his early years been such as to command 
his inward respect, as well as to enforce his outward 
acquiescence in their advice, and had the Par- 
liamentary regime which the last reign had in- 
augurated, and to which the circumstances of his 
minority necessarily gave additional power and 
vigour been steady and moderate, the worst tendencies 
in the King's character might never have fully 
developed themselves, and the stronger and finer 
sides of his mind might have predominated. But 
exactly the reverse was the case. A contemporary 
chronicler, quoted by Sharon Turner, gives the 
following description of .Richard's person and habits. 



EICHAED THE SECOND. 149 

* He was of the common size, yellowish hair, his face 
fair and rosy, rather ronnd than long, and sometimes 
diseased ; brief and rather stammering in his speech. 
In manners unsettled, and too apt to prefer young 
friends to the advice of his elder nobles. He was 
prodigal in his gifts, and extravagantly splendid in 
his dress and banquets, but timid in war ; very 
passionate towards his domestics, arrogant, and too 
much devoted to voluptuous luxury. So fond of late 
hours, that he would sometimes sit up all night 
drinking. Heavily taxing his people, scarcely any 
year passed in which he did not get grants of 
fifteenths, which were consumed as soon as they 
reached his treasury. Yet there were many laudable 
features in his character : he loved Religion and 
the Clergy; he encouraged architecture; he built 
Westminster almost entirely, and the Carthusian 
Monastery near Coventry, and the Dominican at 
Langley.' His character was not one which it is easy 
to explain satisfactorily, for the seeming con- 
tradictions in it are such that we are almost left 
with our scanty materials) to a doubtful alternative 
of styling him either an energetic tyrant or a weak 
voluptuary. In fact, he had in him the elements of 
both, combined with a fitful and inconstant sense of 
right. He was the victim of early dictation ; he had 
been goaded by it into an intolerance of all advice 
and all restraint. He was made the involuntary 
mouthpiece of one ambitious man after another, each 



150 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

claiming his obedience on the ground of superior 
age and hereditary position in the State, and none 
commanding it by the respect inspired by their own 
character, until he hated all but young men, believed 
in the wisdom of young men only, and thought that 
the only security for the devotion of such to himself 
was the obligation under which they laboured of 
owing their great position to his favour alone. The 
Houses of Parliament, which might have mitigated 
the mismanagement of his advisers, instead of 
merely controlling the Administration and restraining 
the extravagant tastes of the young King by a 
constant but moderate supervision, and at the same 
time upholding the royal dignity against the en- 
croachments of nobles and ministers, abused their 
newly acquired prerogatives, and made constitutional 
government hateful to Richard by associating it 
merely with antagonism to all his wishes and 
disrespect to his person. Nor was his a character 
for which such rude schooling was at all appropriate. 
He possessed, it is true, the luxurious constitution 
of the Second and Third Edwards, and not a little of 
the wilful selfishness of the former of these princes, 
but combined with these were a fierceness of temper 
and persistence of purpose more resembling his 
father or the First Edward. His luxurious tastes, if 
his advisers had been more sagacious and congenial, 
might have risen to magnificence, instead of de- 
generating into lavish and indiscriminate extrava- 



RICHARD THE SECOND. 151 

gance. If in his excessive love of making elegant 
presents lie gave his uncle Lancaster, when the 
latter went to Spain, a golden crown, and his duchess 
another ; if, notwithstanding the necessities of his 
treasury, he spent on his marriage 300,000 marks, 
besides the costly presents he made ; and if he 
presented Leo, the King of Armenia, when he came 
to England, with a thousand marks of gold in a gilt 
ship, with the grant of a pension of the same sum 
yearly, it is the disproportion rather than the in- 
appropriateness of the profusion which we must 
condemn, and his expenditure was narrowed in its 
scope and lowered in its stamp by the attempt 
to deprive him of his legitimate authority as a 
Sovereign. In consequence of the ill-judged cha- 
racter of the interference, young Eichard came to 
associate extravagance with freedom of action, and 
seems to have acted rightly only when the advice of 
the constituted counsellors of the Crown had not 
been proffered to that effect. Thus, in Ireland, 
where the authority and advice of Parliament and 
the Council of Peers were comparatively in abeyance, 
the King seems to have executed impartial justice to 
the best of his power, and to have redressed grievances 
and enforced order. His mind possessed too much 
natural vigour to be tamely acquiescent under the 
subservience in which he had been brought up. He 
was a voluptuary, but he was not satisfied with the 
mere pleasures of a voluptuary, without power or 



152 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

position in the State. He wanted to assert his 
power not so much, probably, for the sake of being 
able to abuse it, as from a desire for free agency. 
But however eager to be emancipated from control, 
he had the patience to wait his opportunity, the wit 
and cunning to dissimulate, as well as the promptitude 
to act when he thought the moment had arrived. 
His presence of mind on the occasion of the Wat 
Tyler insurrection might have warned the Magnates 
of Parliament that they were not dealing with a 
contemptible adversary, and might have led them to 
come to a timely understanding with him. But the 
warning proved vain, and blinded by their revengeful 
feelings towards the conquered peasants, they forgot 
to guard against the revenge of a fettered King. 
Dissimulation had been the result of the mor- 
tifications to which Richard had been subjected, and 
he played his game wonderfully well. Once, indeed, 
he was premature in his action, and the confederated 
Lords triumphed, and displayed their triumph, it 
would appear, in a rather unseemly and most in- 
judicious manner. A second time, however, Eichard 
gained his independence by a mere exertion of his 
personal will. After waiting for a twelvemonth, in 
a great Council held after Easter, 1389, he un- 
expectedly requested his uncle Gloucester to tell him 
his age. ' Your Highness,' the Duke rexolied, ' is in 
your twenty-second year.' ' Then,' said the King, 
' 1 must certainly be old enough to manage my own 



KICHAED THE SECOND. 153 

concerns. I have been longer under the control of 
tutors than any ward in my dominions. I thank you, 
my lords, for your past services, but do not require 
them any longer.' He then demanded the seals from 
the Archbishop of York, and the keys of the Exchequer 
from the Bishop of Hereford, while the Council was 
dismissed. The Eevolution was complete, and thence- 
forward Eichard was King in fact as well as in name. 
The course he adopted was eminently characteristic. 
He did not begin by avenging himself on his late 
tutors, nor did he seek to inaugurate his new-born 
independence by any display of excessive extravagance 
or arbitrary notions. He had exhibited his real 
views, indeed, on the last point pretty clearly during 
his first abortive attempt at emancipation, by the un- 
constitutional opinions he extorted from the judges. 
But he was now studiously moderate and conciliatory. 
Seemingly satisfied with the possession of real power, 
he showed no present disposition to abuse it. It is 
acknowledged by all parties that his government for 
several years was nearly unexceptionable. Could the 
past have been obliterated from his memory, and 
had not the degeneration of his disposition during 
these early years been of too permanent a character, 
his reign might have had a very different termination.. 
But he could not forget, and he Avould not forgive, 
the indignities to which he had been subjected, and 
the death or banishment and degradation of his 
favourites. His hatred was as deep-rooted as his 



154 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

patience and dissimulation were perfect. Little by 
little, as lie gradually felt his way to his purpose, the 
old symptoms of evil reappeared, and the relations 
of the King and those against whom he was secretly 
plotting became more unfriendly. Buying off some 
and intimidating others into ignominious subser- 
viency, he broke up the old party which had so long, 
beneficially in one respect, but in another unwisely 
and unnecessarily shackled him, and then he 
executed his long-deferred vengeance with a fierce- 
ness and unrelenting energy equal to the long delay. 
He had forgiven nothing, and finding the nation 
willing to stand by a stunned and passive spectator, 
he set no limits either to his vengeance or to his 
arbitrary exercise of power. The fiercer part of his 
character had now the entire ascendant ; with his 
long self-restraint disappeared apparently his former 
judgment. He ceased to think of and provide 
against the future — he lived only in the present. He 
was no longer the mere elegant patron of literature, 
the appreciate of Chaucer and Gower, the handsome 
and accomplished master and companion of a De 
"Vere and a De la Pole, — he was the blind despot, 
insulting every national feeling, rousing every per- 
sonal resentment, and destroying every substantial 
support to his throne. The reaction from tutelage 
had been, too great, the suspense of the long-coveted 
revenge had been too long for not merely his 
moderation, but his common sense. His mind seems 



RICHARD THE SECOND. 15<> 

to have given way under the trial and the con- 
summation. His energy degenerated into mere 
violence ; injustice at first indulged in through 
revenge became habitual with him ; favouritism and 
misgovernment, once scarcely more than symbols of 
self-assertion, became his settled policy ; and at last 
the man who in former years had seemed to handle 
Henry of Bolingbroke as a mere instrument of his 
designs, lost at the critical moment all presence of 
mind and all decision, and became a panic-stricken 
and helpless prisoner in his cousin's hands — lending 
himself with a now hopelessly ignominious humility 
to the ceremonial of his own deposition and the eleva- 
tion of the triumphant House of Lancaster. 



156 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 

The accession of the House of Lancaster to the 
Throne of England ushers in a new epoch in the 
history of that country, to which the reign of 
Richard the Second forms a sort of introduction. 
Out of the chaos of personal ambitions and class 
aspirations and prejudices which constituted the 
main features of the latter reign was gradually 
■evolved during the fifteenth century that type of 
society which was to be subjected to the great 
Religious and Political experiments of the sixteenth 
and seventeenth centuries. Everybody must feel 
that while there is considerable similarity between 
some of the great questions which interested and 
agitated the public mind during the latter part of 
the reign of Edward the Third, and that of Richard 
the Second, and those with which the Tudor period 
was mainly occupied, there is also an essential differ- 
ence in the character of the society to which these 
questions were addressed. The period on which we 
are now entering ought to supply the history of this 
transition, and explain the recurrence of the same 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 157 

problems under such very different conditions of 
solution; but unhappily there is no period of our 
national history of which we know so little from 
authentic and reliable sources of information, and 
which has called forth so little discriminating in- 
dustry on the part of competent students. The 
obscurity and uncertainty which attach to the events., 
naturally also affect to a corresponding extent our 
knowledge of the characters of the sovereigns who 
occupied the throne during that period, and I may 
therefore at once say that the Estimates of them 
which I venture to put forth are given with greater 
reserve and hesitation than any preceding ones, and 
must be received only as the best that I am able to 
form under very disadvantageous circumstances. 

The Fifteenth Century, while it was really the 
workshop in which the great revolutions of the suc- 
ceeding centuries were gradually being prepared,, 
was in itself to the outward eye only a confused 
collection of imperfect and abortive essays of work- 
manship — the first attempts to realise the great 
ideas to which the preceding century had given 
birth. Full of interest so far as concerns the subject- 
matter of the day, it is also full of seemingly wasted 
efforts, and purposes distracted or postponed at the 
very moment of their proximate fulfilment. And as 
with the Age, so with the Leaders of the Age. 
There are plenty of men of ability, but there are few 
really great careers, if greatness is to be estimated 



158 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

hy permanently great achievements. Nor do the 
Kings escape from this common imputation of fruit- 
lessness. The ablest and greatest seem to have 
palpably mistaken their appropriate career, or to 
have wilfully stopped short in it, — the one really 
feeble sovereign among them is the only complete 
character, and his completeness fitted him only for 
an entirely different position. 

Henry of Bolingbroke, as he was called, from the 
place of his birth, had very little in common with 
his predecessor except in the power of concealing his 
thoughts, and the patience to await opportunities. 
But what in Eichard was a constrained and un- 
natural state of mind, which eventually destroyed 
the balance of his understanding altogether, seems 
to have been in Henry the natural growth of his 
temperament. Of all his predecessors he most re- 
sembled in several points of character the founder of 
the Plantagenet dynasty. He might, perhaps, be 
called a reproduction of Henry the Second, without 
the intensity of subdued passion which marked that 
Xing, but without also the elevation and breadth of 
mind which (after all his faults) recommend his 
namesake to our sympathy. Both kings acted always 
on deliberate and preconceived plans; neither of 
them seems to have had great originality of mind, 
yet each studied deeply mankind and events, and 
each in his degree profited by his study largely. 
Both were studious, and both were fond of consider- 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 159 

ing and discussing questions of casuistry, as a relax- 
ation from and a school for their more immediately 
practical duties. A well-informed writer, who was 
born five years before the accession of Henry the 
Fourth, declares respecting that king : — C I have 
known in my time that men of great literary attain- 
ments, who used to enjoy intercourse with him, have 
said that he was a man of very great ability, and of 
so tenacious a memory that he used to spend great 
part of the day in solving and unravelling hard 
questions. . . . Let it suffice for future ages to know 
that this man was a studious investigator of all 
-doubtful points of morals, and that, as far as his 
hours of rest from the administration of his govern- 
ment permitted him to be free, he was always eager 
in the prosecution of such pursuits.' He is said to 
have invited to England a celebrated French lady 
and memoir- writer, Christine de Pisan, and the care- 
ful education which he gave to Prince James of 
Scotland was of so superior a kind for the age, that 
the greatest benefit was conferred on Scotland when 
the long-detained prince was at last allowed to return 
to that country. Henry himself is said to have jest- 
ingly remarked when the young prince first fell into 
his hands, on his voyage to France, that the Scots 
might have paid him the compliment of considering 
him as quite as well fitted to educate the boy as the 
French. These tastes and pursuits are only such as 
we might have expected from the son of John of 



160 ESTIMATES OF- THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Gaunt. But Henry also resembled his ancestor, the 
first Plantagenet king, in another respect, namely, 
in his great activity of body as well as of mind. He 
was no mere closet student or statesman of the 
cabinet. His whole life, until he was disabled by 
disease, was filled with a succession of personal 
enterprises, in which the physical exertion must 
have been as great as the individual courage was 
conspicuous. It must be remembered that his reign 
comprises only a very small portion of his life, and 
that he came to the throne at the age of thirty- three, 
a veteran in body as well as in mind. After the 
assumption of the reins of government by Eichard, 
he thought it expedient to quit the political scene 
for a time, and in September, 1390, he went into 
Prussia, and joined the forces that were attacking* 
the Pagan King of Lithuania, and distinguished 
himself in the battles in that country. He returned 
to England about April the 25th following; but on July 
the 25th, 1892, he made a second expedition to Prussia 
with 300 men, and not meeting with so friendly a 
reception from the lords of that country as he ex- 
pected, he went to Venice, and thence proceeded to 
Jerusalem, where he visited the Holy Places as a 
pilgrim, and ransomed many Christian captives. In 
the course of his travels he visited Italy, Austria, 
Bohemia, and France, and was again in England in 
1397. His bold enterprise in landing at Eavenspurn 
in 1399, and his personal attendance, after his acces- 



HENEY THE FOUETH. 161 

sion, in the campaigns against the Percies, the Scots, 
and the Welsh, all attest a physical activity and 
energy quite equal to if uot beyond that of his mind. 
He was personally brave to the extent of rashness, 
and what we have already said shows that he had a 
considerable amount of enterprise, and of religious 
faith, if not of enthusiasm. He never lost his pre- 
sence of mind, and he seldom lost his temper. He 
preserved calmness and coolness in the midst of great 
crises, and never took an active part except where 
he could do so with effect. But he was as prompt 
in action as cautious in acting. He was not un- 
kindly in his disposition, in the earlier part of his 
life, at any rate, and he was sufficiently versed in the 
more ornamental accomplishments of the day to hold 
his ground with any knight or courtier, while he had 
tact enough to catch the humours of the lower 
orders. He was a thoroughly capable man, and a 
not ill-meaning man. But his character seems, as 
far as we can judge, to have been at the bottom cold 
and unsympathetic, and as devoid of generous im- 
pulses as it was naturally free from sinister motives. 
Quiet, and probably unconscious selfishness seems to 
have been his ruling characteristic, and the circum- 
stances of his position and life intensified this selfish- 
ness and made it something more than a passive 
quality. From taking good care not to injure or 
sacrifice himself, he went on to injure and sacrifice 
others. His wariness became suspicion, and his 

M 



162 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

caution degenerated into dissimulation. He stood 
in the invidious and dangerous position of the repre- 
sentative of a cadet branch of the reigning family. 
Not only was his father the uncle of the King, but 
he himself through his mother represented the col- 
lateral house of Lancaster, which from its origin in 
the reign of Henry the Third had been always a sort 
of centre of popular feeling, and an object of suspicion 
to the Crown. He was brought up among men with 
whom their own aggrandisement was the sole object, 
and with whom frequently the best path to safety 
and position seemed to be the destruction of all 
possible rivals. * He thus learnt early the lesson of 
distrust of all men, and dissimulation with all, if not 
also of occasional treachery. I speak with some 
reserve on this last point, because my materials for 
judging are not sufficient or satisfactory for a positive 
decision. Much of Henry's conduct during the reign 
of Richard can be explained without attributing to 
him more than great reserve and a keen instinct of 
self-preservation. He took the field boldly against 
the obnoxious favourite De Vere, and acted for some 
time with the Duke of Gloucester, being one of the 
Lords Appellant forced on Richard. But he carefully 
abstained from any personal disrespect to the King, 
and he openly (though vainly) interposed to stop the 
execution of Sir Simon Burley, a courtier of the last 
reign, who, whatever his demerits, has the recom- 
mendation of having been selected by the Black 



HENEY THE EOUETH. 163 

Prince as guardian to his son. A breach, thereupon, 
ensued between Henry and his uncle Gloucester, and 
he seems to have withdrawn from the counsels of the 
party. The King, at any rate, always expressed 
friendly feelings towards him, and made from that 
time a marked difference in his manner of speaking 
of him and Mowbray from that he employed respect- 
ing the rest of the Lords Appellant. Fresh mani- 
festations of favour were displayed towards him 
when Eichard assumed his authority in 1389. But 
Henry seems to have either somewhat mistrusted 
this appearance of favour, or to have felt his position 
too difficult a one, and, as we have seen, quitted 
England for the next few years. In 1397, however, 
we find the King declaring that he acted with his 
consent in arresting the Duke of Gloucester. How 
far he was compelled to temporise during the suc- 
ceeding period of undisguised tyranny, we do not 
know; he seems to have made no open opposition, 
at any rate ; but there can be little doubt that he, as 
well as Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, began to tremble 
lest their own turn was coming, and to believe that 
Richard had never forgiven their former action 
against the favourites. It was under these circum- 
stances that, as Henry said, Mowbray opened his 
mind to him, and suggested measures of mutual 
protection, and that Henry disclosed the alleged 
communication, at the order of the King, in Parlia- 
ment. How far this was mere self-preservation and 

M 2 



164 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

how far treachery on Henry's part I am unable to 
say. His character does not forbid, while it does 
not invite, the worse interpretation. He may have 
desired to remove a rival in Mowbray, or he may 
have only acted on his principle of general distrust 
and self-regard, and have considered it necessary for 
his own safety to denounce his old colleague to the 
King. The sequel is well known. Richard, after 
pretending to encourage a decision of the truth or 
falsehood of the accusation by trial by combat, seized 
the opportunity of banishing both peers from Eng- 
land, — Henry at first only for ten years, afterwards, 
it would seem, for life — on the plea that a decision 
either way would be injurious to himself from the 
connection of both with the Royal blood, and that it 
would be dangerous to the peace of England for the 
would-be duellists to continue there in deadly hos- 
tility to each other. Other offences were added to 
justify Norfolk's (at first) heavier sentence, but the 
real offence in both was carefully kept out of view. 
Next followed the death of John of Gaunt and the 
iniquitous confiscation of his property, and then 
came the expedition of Henry, nominally to assert 
his own rights and rescue the country from the evil 
advisers of the Crown — really, undoubtedly, to make 
a stroke (if feasible) for the Crown. His lessons in 
casuistry may have led him to distinguish between 
absolute and possible intentions, and so justified to 
his conscience his disavowal of all designs on the 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 165 

Crown when he first landed ; but he as well as the 
Percies must have known that there was really no 
alternative, in dealing with such a man as Richard, 
between his destruction and their own. It is prob- 
able that the Percies, like Henry, made their policy 
wait on the course of events, and though bent on 
deposing the King, would have much preferred a 
puppet King in a Mortimer, to a clever ruler such as 
they knew Henry of Bolingbroke would prove. But 
Henry's management and popularity combined proved 
too much for them, and they acquiesced, seemingly 
with good-will, in his accession. 

I have given some idea of what Henry of Boling^ 
broke may have been in himself and as a cadet of the 
royal family : we have now to consider his character as 
affected and developed by his elevation to the throne. 
He had hitherto suffered (thougn from a different 
cause) from the same isolation and want of sympathy 
with others to which the position of Kings exposes 
them. He was now to suffer in character and feeling 
from the want of the recognised position of a 
legitimate and undisputed succession. Unlike Henry 
the Second, whose succession to the throne had been 
a kind of Restoration, and who thus added to per- 
sonal qualifications the prestige of accepted authority, 
Henry the Fourth was the nominee King of the Par- 
liament, and his primary object must be to maintain 
himself on this Parliamentary throne, and to secure 
the succession to his children. Thus he never could 



166 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

achieve the independent position of kingship. Every 
act of his beyond the walls of Parliament seemed 
like a mere exhibition of personal will, and every 
concession of his within the walls of Parliament 
seemed only a natural and inevitable consequence of 
the origin of his power. His mind, though strong, 
was not sufficiently commanding to master and 
impress with awe, though it might sway and manage 
his Lords and Commons. There was nothing 
striking in his presence, though there was nothing 
insignificant or mean. In person he was of the 
middle height, but well-proportioned and compact,, 
His address was not undignified, and could be when 
he chose very pleasing, but he had to court 
Parliamentary favour too closely to be able to 
maintain altogether the dignity of a King. The 
Commons addressed him in language which will 
startle the student who has gained his ideas of 
deference to the Sovereign from the days of the 
Tudors, and he was compelled generally to answer in 
a fashion which sounds somewhat humiliating, even 
where we are bound to acknowledge its wisdom and 
its justice. There was not sufficient natural elevation 
in his character to support entirely this deference to 
popular demands which seemed, in his ease, rather 
humiliating than graceful and condescending. He 
had not the elements of Royal stateliness in his 
nature, and his popular manners had outlived their 
proper sphere of action — the candidateship for the 



HENKY THE FOUKTH. 167 

Crown, not its possession. Still, he might have 
inspired regard as well as respect, if it had not been 
for other circumstances. Though his policy at 
home and abroad was necessarily to a great degree 
hampered and disarranged by personal and family 
considerations — though he had to struggle for a 
throne where he ought to have been governing a 
united people and directing a national statesmanship, 
he achieved by the force and persistence of his 
character, and his unwearied industry and activity, 
much more than could have been expected from his 
position. At home he crushed every conspiracy, and 
though he lived in perpetual hazard from attempts on 
his life, he was not driven thereby into passion or 
cruelty. Warfare under his auspices assumed a 
much more humane and civilised character. The 
Royal banner, wherever it was raised in the Scotch 
wars, was a secure shelter from the worst accom- 
paniments of war, and in France his captains gave a 
noble lesson in humanity to a Duke of Burgundy. 
The death of Richard is a possible, but only a possible 
blot on his memory. How and exactly when that 
prince died no one can say, but the suspicions 
against Henry, though strong, are far from amounting 
to proofs. As of former charges against him, we 
may say of this, — it is not incompatible with his 
character, but it is not the natural deduction from it. 
He was for the first six or seven years of his reign, 
at any rate, a just, if not perhaps a very popular 



168 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

ruler, and though his administration and his 
popularity after that time underwent a serious change 
for the worse, this was owing rather to the effects of 
mental and bodily decay than to any other cause. 
Of his foreign policy throughout, a late editor of his 
correspondence speaks in terms of high praise. ' It 
is impossible,' he says, ' to read and study this 
lengthy and almost unbroken series of letters 
without coming to the conclusion that [in the 
transactions with France and Flanders] the English 
were by far the least to blame, and were evidently 
actuated by a sincere desire to make peace on 
equitable terms ; a desire for which very little credit 

can be given to the other side The whole 

correspondence taken together and considered in all 
its details exhibits a new and striking illustration of 
one of those numerous perils and disturbances which 
rendered uneasy indeed the early years of the reign 
of the first monarch of the House of Lancaster; 
affording yet another proof of the vigour of the mind 
of the man who could pass safely through so many 
troubles, and at last obtain success; and certainly 
not exhibiting his character in an unfavourable light 
beside that of neighbouring princes of his day.' 
But with all this cleverness of administration at 
home and abroad, Henry of Bolingbroke was out of 
unison with his times in one essential point. 

I have spoken of the Lollard movement in its 
earlier social and political aspects. It had been 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 169 

originally, it is well known, favoured and protected 
by John of Gaunt, and there is reason to believe that 
his son had shared in these sympathies. But the 
levelling or democratic tendencies which were 
thought to be the fruit of Lollardism, and which 
culminated in Wat Tyler's rising, frightened not 
only the middle-classes and nobles, but the House of 
Lancaster into orthodoxy and sympathy with the 
Church. The nobles and middle-classes had by the 
commencement of the reign of Henry the Fourth 
considerably recovered from their panic. They proved, 
indeed, still doetrinally orthodox enough to pass the 
statute De Hceretico Comburendo, which ushered in 
an era of intolerance to the death among fellow- 
Christians in England; but they were not loth to 
copy a page out of the creed of the Lollards, and to 
propose to the King a sweeping ecclesiastical reform, 
which would have reduced the clergy to a condition 
of primitive Christian poverty, and enriched the 
King and all other classes, and provided funds for 
the charity of the kingdom, at their expense. But 
the House of Lancaster had not moved in this respect 
with the nation which had called it to the throne. 
Henry had found the advantage of an alliance with 
the Church in his struggle with Richard, who had 
most unwisely alienated its affections by his tyranny, 
and he therefore entertained an overweening estimate 
of the strength and importance of the Church. The 
old superstitious feelings of a Plantagenet (which 



170 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

had peeped forth in his pilgrimage to Jerusalem) 
may have intensified this feeling, and after his 
accession he lent himself to the aggrandisement of 
the Church, without due regard for the interests of 
the State or the wishes of the people. On this point 
he was disposed to be obstinate, and to show self- 
assertion in his dealings with Parliament, and, indeed, 
there can be little doubt that the Church was saved 
by his exertions and resistance from a timely 
reformation, if not from a complete spoliation. On 
this point Henry was a bigot, and a persecuting 
bigot, and, as he urged persecution, the Parliament 
and the people became more tolerant towards the 
Lollards, and more sympathetic with their teachings. 
Instead, then, of becoming the leader and moderator 
of what might have been made a great and wise 
movement, Henry expended his energies in checking 
and repressing it, and while he destroyed his own 
popularity, and undermined the position of his 
family, ensured the more thorough downfall of the 
Church in the succeeding century. The mind which 
was equal to the lessons of casuistry was not wide 
enough to grasp the bearings of a great and vital 
question, — the faculties which were sufficient to 
constitute an able administrator, fell short of the 
dimensions of genius and of the higher statesmanship. 
The personal reign of Henry the Fourth may be 
said, in one sense, to terminate with the latter part of 
the year 1406. From that time he laboured with 



HENEY THE FOUETH, 171 

yoke-fellows very similar in origin and authority to 
those which had been imposed on Richard, though the 
semblance of his personal co-operation was kept up 
with more outward decency. A painful disease in 
the face, which had more or less afflicted him from 
a child of six years old, seems to have rapidly in- 
creased, and to have become a sort of leprosy; and 
now to this was added a succession of epileptic fits 7 
which at last brought him to the grave. Under the 
influence of these complaints, his mind became seri- 
ously weakened, his household expenditure became 
so reckless, and his general power of administration 
so obviously broke down, that the Parliament and 
the Privy Council took decided steps, and after first 
curbing his extravagance and the misconduct to 
which his weakness had given rise by rigorous 
surveillance, at last took the reins of government out 
of his hands, in all but the name, and placed his 
eldest son at the head of the Government. Once the 
King asserted his authority by dismissing his son 
from the Council, but the act was the last effort on 
the part of the once all-efficient Bolingbroke, and the 
Crown which, as the story goes, Prince Henry took 
prematurely from his father's bedside, had really for 
several years practically rested on his own head~. 

Henry the Fourth was not a good man or a great 
man, but he possessed qualities which frequently sug- 
gest, though they do not realise, both one and the 
other character. His aims in life cannot be considered 



172 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

either entirely praiseworthy or entirely malign. His 
virtues were nearly as moderate as his vices. His 
intellect, like his morality, had the type of mediocrity ; 
but the mediocrity in the former case was certainly of 
a higher type than in the latter. His virtue was too 
passive to endure the ordeal of an active career, but 
his intellect was strong enough to secure him a 
creditable place in the gallery of Kings. We may 
say of him as the old gardener says of Eob Roy in 
Scott's novel of that name, — c There are mony 
things ower bad for blessing and ower gude for 
banning ? like/ — Henry of Bolingbroke, 



173 



HENRY THE FIFTH. 

The historical fate of Henry of Monmouth has been 
a strange one. He has long been the darling of 
popular fame, first as the actual hero of the battle 
of Agincourt, and next as the supposed hero of a 
number of juvenile escapades, which met with a por- 
tion of their deserts in the Justice and the lock-up; 
and it is difficult to say in which capacity he is the 
more attractive to the popular mind. I always feel 
some hesitation in arriving at historical conclusions 
opposed to traditional judgments, but I am afraid 
that the reputation of Henry, if it is to be supported 
at all, must rest on other grounds than these : — that 
the glories of his French campaigns, when looked at 
with an impartial eye, will appear as little else than 
the ephemeral, though brilliant, success of a mistaken 
and disastrous policy, and that the youthful delin- 
quencies which, through the artistic genius of a great 
dramatist, have exercised such a charm over the 
fancy, if they have any foundation at all in fact, 
formed so insignificant a feature in the early life of 
Henry as to be thoroughly misleading, if taken as an 



174 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

index of his conduct before he became King of 
England. The only facts of his early career about 
which we can feel at all certain present a character 
so unlike the popular conception, that it seems very 
difficult to admit the possibility of there being any 
truth in those stories, familiar to us all, of the Prince 
and his companions ; and if the authority of contem- 
porary chroniclers induces me to give any ear to them 
at all, I am compelled to receive them in a very 
partial and modified sense. I cannot expect, how- 
ever, that my readers will, in this case, give credence 
to my simple assertion, and a more detailed account 
of the facts is therefore as necessary on this account, 
as it is essential to an understanding of what Prince 
Henry really was. 

To begin with, Harry of Monmouth — as he was 
called, from the place of his birth — was not born in 
the purple. When Kichard the Second was displaced 
by Bolingbroke, Henry was twelve years of age, and 
for these twelve years he was merely the heir of a 
collateral branch of the royal family, which did not 
stand in the immediate order of succession, even 
supposing the reigning King should die childless, and 
whose pretensions to the succession were not likely 
to receive any favour at the hands of the King, nor 
could hope much from popular support as long as 
the Duke of Gloucester remained alive. He was 
therefore from the beginning placed in a position 
both secondary and unpromising. It became also a 



HENEY THE FIFTH. 175 

very invidious and difficult position, when his father 
landed in England to subvert the existing govern- 
ment. Young Harry was then in Ireland, whither he 
had been carried by King Richard (along with young 
Humphrey of Gloucester) as a measure of precaution, 
becoming thus a sort of hostage for the good beha- 
viour of his father. Richard had always treated him 
with great kindness, his preference for the young 
probably animating his better feelings in this matter. 
Henry (who is said to have always retained a grate- 
ful feeling towards the King) was knighted by him 
in Ireland, and under his auspices first witnessed 
actual warfare. Even when the news of Bolingbroke's 
enterprise reached the King, Richard accepted with 
seeming faith the lad's protestations of his own 
innocence, and took no other measure against him 
than that of leaving him behind him in Ireland, under 
a gentle restraint. The position of Henry, under these 
circumstances, must have called for the early exercise 
of considerable tact and self-restraint, if he possessed 
those qualities, as Richard's lenient course towards 
him seems to imply ; and at any rate, his mind must 
have been roused to the consideration of a grave 
moral difficulty as to the comparative claims of filial 
duty and personal gratitude, and so may have been 
schooled at an early age to habits of reflection and 
decision. Then came a great change, and he became 
all at once the heir-apparent to an established though 
still precarious Royalty. But along with the seduc- 



176 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

tive splendour and flatteries of this prominent posi- 
tion, which might have inlled his energies into sloth- 
ful repose, he entered on cares and responsibilities of 
no ordinary kind. From a lad he was called on to 
co-operate by his presence first and then by his 
personal exertions in the maintenance of the newly- 
acquired dignity, and he seems to have responded to 
this call with alacrity and unwearying industry. 
We can trace his career almost continuously from 
this point in State correspondence, in the records of 
the Privy Council, and in the Bolls of Parliament. 
A few extracts will suffice. Henry Percy (Hotspur), 
from whom the Prince had been learning the art of 
war on the Welsh Borders, tells the Council how the 
Commons of the country of North Wales, that is, the 
counties of Carnarvon and Merioneth, who have been 
before him, have humbly offered their thanks to my 
Lord the Prince for the great exertions of his kindness 
and goodwill in procuring their pardon at the hands 
of the King. The pardon itself, dated March 10, 1401, 
when Henry of Monmouth was only fourteen, states 
that it was granted ' of our especial grace, and at the 
prayer of our dearest first-born son, Henry, Prince 
of Wales.' In March, 1403, the young Prince was 
appointed by his father, with the consent of the 
Privy Council, Lieutenant of Wales, with full powers 
of inquiring into offences, of pardoning offenders, of 
arraying the King's lieges, and of doing all other 
things which he should find necessary. From a letter 



HENEY THE FIFTH. 177 

to the Privy Council from the Prince himself about 
this time, pointing out the necessity of supplies of 
money, we learn that he had been compelled to pawn 
his own plate and jewels to raise money for the ex- 
penses of the war. On July the 10th, in the same year, 
the King: tells the Council that he had received letters 
from his son, and information from his messengers, 
acquainting him with the gallant and good bearing 
of his very dear and well-beloved son, which gave 
him very great pleasure. He then commissions them 
to pay 1,000L to the Prince for the purpose of en- 
abling him to keep his soldiers together. Close on 
this date came the insurrection of the Percies. His 
son joined the King from Wales, and was present at 
the battle of Shrewsbury, July the 21st, 1403, where 
he was wounded in the face by an arrow. 1 

Henry returned after the battle to his Welsh lieu- 
tenancy, and we meet with a series of letters from 
him to the King and Privy Council, entering fully 
on the matters attending the campaigns against 
Owen Glendower, and on June the 7th, 1406, we find 
an entry in the Eolls of Parliament which may be 
taken as a specimen of the estimation in which the 
Prince was held by the House of Commons. The 
Speaker, in his opening address, made 'a commen- 
dation of the many excellences and virtues which 
habitually dwelt in the honourable person of the 

1 According to a contemporary chronicler, lie refused to quit the 
field, saying, 'If the Prince flies, who will stay to end the battle ? ' 

N 



178 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Prince; and especially, first, of the humility and 
obedience which he bears toward our sovereign lord 
the King, his father, so that there can be no person 
of any degree whatever who entertains or shows more 
honour and reverence of humbleness and obedience 
to his father than he shows in his honourable person; 
secondly, how God hath granted to him and endowed 
him with good heart and courage, as much as ever 
was needed in any such prince in the world. And, 
thirdly [he spoke], of the great virtue which God 
hath granted him in an especial manner, that how- 
soever much he had set his mind upon any important 
undertaking to the best of his own judgment, yet for 
the great confidence which he placed in his council, 
and in their loyalty, judgment, and discretion, he 
would kindly and graciously be influenced by and 
conform himself to his council and their ordinance, 
according to what seemed best to them, setting aside 
entirely his own will and pleasure ; from which it is 
probable that, by the grace of God, very great com- 
fort and honour and advantage will flow hereafter. 
For this, the said Commons humbly thank our Lord 
Jesus Christ, and they pray for its good continuance.' 
This is the first of four successive Parliaments in 
which Prince Henry was cordially thanked for his 
services, and recommended to the King's favour. He 
was now gradually assuming a more and more impor- 
tant position in the State. On December the 8th, 
1406, we find him present at a council at Westminster, 






HENRY THE FIFTH. 179 



which, had met to deliberate on the governance of the 
King's household, the extravagance and misman- 
agement of which had been alluded to in a gentle 
manner by the Commons on the day when they had 
used such warm expressions of praise respecting the 
Prince. So that while we are looking for traces of 
the Prince's extravagance, we come instead on com- 
plaints of that of the King ! It appears from an 
official entry, that on May the 4th, 1407, the Prince 
was retained by the consent of the Council to remain 
in attendance on the person of the King, and at his 
bidding — an additional proof of the growing disabi- 
lity of the King and rising influence of young Henry. 
A generous proceeding on his part, on December the 
2nd, 1407, must not be omitted. On that day, after 
receiving a vote of thanks and confidence from the 
Commons, 'the said Lord the Prince, most humbly 
kneeling, declared to our said Lord the King, and to 
all the Estates of Parliament, in respect of the Duke of 
York, how that he had understood that divers oblo- 
quies and detractions had been put forth by certain 
evil-disposed persons, to the slander and derogation 
of the honourable estate and name of the said Duke. 
Wherein the Lord the Prince made declaration for 
the said Duke, that if it had not been for his skill 
and good advice, himself the said Prince and those 
that were with him, would have been in very great 
perils and desolation. And he further added, in 
behalf of the said Duke, that if he had been one of 

N 2 



180 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the poorest gentlemen of the realm, wishing to earn 
a good name and honour by service, the said Duke 
did so in his own person, labour and use his endeavours 
to give comfort and courage to all others who were 
of the said company; and that in all his actions 
he is a true and valiant knight.' Edward, Duke of 
York, whom Henry thus generously vindicated, was 
the 'Aumerle' {i.e. Albemarle) of Shakespeare, an 
old favourite of Eichard's, and had been engaged 
rather discreditably in plots against Henry the Fourth 
in the early part of the reign. Prince Henry, how- 
ever, continued to have confidence in him after his 
own accession to the Crown ; for in the second year 
of his reign he made a declaration in Parliament in 
his favour, in order to remove the attainder which 
had been passed against him by Henry the Pourth, 
and trusted him even after the treason of the Duke's 
brother Richard, Earl of Cambridge. The Duke 
fell fighting by his side in the battle of Agincourt. 

Prom this period Henry was either occupied with 
Welsh affairs (military and civil) or present at Coun- 
cils in London, and we see him a prominent mem- 
ber of the Privy Council, of which we find him acting 
as President in July, 1408. On February the 1st, 
1409, the custody of the Earl of March and his brother 
was given to him ; early in the same year he was 
appointed Warden of the Cinque Ports and Constable 
of Dover for life, with a salary of 3001. a year, and 
on March the 18th, 1410, Captain of Calais. In the 



HENRY THE FIFTH. 181 

Parliament of the year 1410 we find a petition of the 
Commons reciting that a statute of that year, to 
prevent malicious prosecutions and secret indictments, 
was made by the King's grace, far la Bone mediation 
de leur redoute Seigneur le Prince. During the June 
and July of this year we find the Prince constantly 
acting as President of the Privy Council, and as such 
actively engaged in all the leading affairs of the 
State ; and this is the more remarkable, as it is to 
June the 23rd that is assigned by Stowe a riot in East- 
cheap (mentioned also in the c Chronicle of London '), 
in which, however, not the Prince, but the Lords 
Thomas and John, his brothers, are said to have 
been concerned, and which was put down by the 
Mayor and Sheriffs. The King is stated by Stowe to 
have been very angry at the conduct of the citizens, 
but to have been appeased on their explanations to 
' William Gascoigne, Chief Justice.' The only thing 
to connect Prince Henry with this transaction is the 
fact that the King had made him on March the 18th 
preceding a gran t of the mansion of Coldharbour, 
near Eastcheap ; while to make the matter more con- 
tradictory still, it is stated by the writers who attri- 
bute excesses to Prince Henry, that in consequence of 
these he was displaced in his seat at the Council by 
his brother Thomas, one of the rioters on this occa- 
sion ! In November, 1411, another Parliament as- 
sembled, and it appears from an entry in the Rolls, 
that the King had taken in ill-part some of the pro- 



182 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

ceedings of the Commons,, but on their prayer de- 
clared them to he his loyal and faithful subjects, It 
is clear that the jealousy of the King at the trans- 
ference of the powers of Government from his own 
hands to those of the Prince and Council was rapidly 
increasing. Prince Henry's house appears to have 
become the resort of a large part of the nobility and 
great men, despatches from foreign governments 
were addressed to him, and his name was associated 
with that of the Xing in public acts. An application 
had been made to the Prince (in his capacity of alter 
ego to the King) that very year by the Duke of 
Burgundy for aid against the Orleanist party in 
France, and a force was dispatched under the com- 
mand of the Earl of Arundel, Sir John Oldcastle 
(Lord Cobham in right of his wife), and other 
friends of the Prince. There had been a treaty of 
marriage for the Prince with the house of Burgundy, 
and Henry appears to have always had a strong 
appreciation of the importance to England of the 
Burgundian alliance. The expedition culminated in 
the victory of St. Cloud (in November), after which 
Arundel and Cobham showed their humanity by 
drawing themselves up in battle array to protect 
their prisoners from the vengeance of the Duke of 
Burgundy. Between this time and the spring of the 
following year, a change seems to have taken place 
in the counsels of the English King. In May 1412, 
a treaty was contracted with the Orleanist party, 



HENRY THE FIFTH. 183 

and on August the 25th the Lord Thomas, who had 
been created Duke of Clarence on July the 9th, was 
sent to France with a force to co-operate against Bur- 
gundy. As far as we can ascertain, a party hostile 
to the Prince (according to one account, aided by 
his stepmother) had persuaded the King, who was 
terribly weakened in mind and body by his epileptic 
fits, that his eldest son was seeking to dethrone him, 
and had induced him to assert his authority by chan- 
ging sides in the French civil wars. Prince Henry 
appears to have been accused during this year of ap- 
propriating to his own use money given him for the 
payment of the garrison of Calais. In the minutes of 
the Privy Council between July and September (1412) 
this slander is. referred to, and stated to be disproved 
by two rolls of paper which the Prince'had sent to the 
Council ; and letters were ordered to be written under 
the Privy Seal vindicating the Prince's conduct. The 
real fact was, that at this time there was due to the 
Prince for Calais a very large sum of money. What- 
ever may have been the exact occasion of the quarrel 
between father and son, it appears from the Records 
that on February the 18th, 1412 (while the negotia- 
tions with the Orleanist party were going on), Prince 
Henry had ceased to be of the Privy Council, between 
600?. and 700L being then paid to him for his labours 
and costs while he was a councillor. Probably the 
displeasure of the King with his Parliament in the 
preceding December marks the beginning of this 



184 ESTIMATES OE -THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

family estrangement. The ' Chronicle of London ' tells 
us that, c on the last day of June, the Prince came to 
London with much people and gentles, and remained 
in the Bishop of Durham's house till July the 11th ; 
and the King, who was then at St. John's House, re- 
moved to the Bishop of London's palace, and thence 
to his house at Eotherhithe.' And, again, under Sep- 
tember the 23rd, it records that 6 Prince Henry came 
to the Council with a huge people.' Everything seems 
to indicate that there had been a great political crisis, 
in which the King had resumed the reins of govern- 
ment, and the Prince had been supported against 
him by the people, high and low. 

On March the 20th following Henry the Fourth 
died, and the Prince, who had so long governed in 
his name, became actual King of England, Of the 
general tone of his life and character as Prince the 
records I have quoted seem to leave no doubt. It 
only remains to say that some of the statements im- 
puting to him a wild and reckless life daring that 
period are found in the writings of contemporaries, 
composed very soon after the alleged events. The 
only way of escaping from the difficulty, is by sup- 
posing that these statements represent the slanders 
spread abroad by the party which, in the last year of 
the King's reign, succeeded in removing him from 
the Privy Council. They may have been founded on 
some unguarded actions of Prince Henry — they cer- 
tainly can only be received as distortions, more or 



HENEY THE FIFTH. 185 

less, of tlie real facts. It is possible that the whole 
originated in the fact of Prince Henry's early friend- 
ship with Sir John Oldcastle, who became- hateful to 
the clergy (the chroniclers of the day) on account of 
his Lollardisin, and whose character has suffered 
from calumny still more grossly in connection with 
those very excesses imputed to the Prince-- If the 
gallant, religious Oldcastle — the Havelock of his 
day — could be transformed into the prototype of 
Falstaff, we need wonder at no perversions of histori- 
cal facts. 

The character of Henry, as it presents itself to us 
in the foregoing records, is that of a man of resolute 
nature, self-reliant, and prompt of decision, but not 
presumptuous or precipitate ; marked by strong good 
sense, and yet a generous and compassionate spirit, 
and also tinged far more than, is usual at such an 
early age with a strong feeling of religious duty and 
moral responsibility. His reference in his letters of 
all his achievements and trials to the superintending 
will of God is too habitual, and made in too earnest 
and natural a manner, for us to regard it as mere 
decent verbiage. His character seems to have al- 
ready possessed sufficient force to make a deep im- 
pression on the leading men of the day, and on the 
constituted authorities of the realm, and to have 
inspired the one with respect, the other with implicit 
confidence. Nor does his conduct after his accession 
to the throne alter this estimate in any material 



186 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

point. In one case, indeed, his kindly feeling and 
attachment to his associates in war and peace gave 
way before the stronger influence of religious fanati- 
cism. Although he had been so much the companion 
of the Lollard Oldcastle, Henry appears to have 
always entertained a strong dislike to the Lollards. 
The tone of his mind in this respect harmonised 
with that of his father, and his love of administra- 
tion and his military sense of order aud authority 
were both probably outraged by the opinions attri- 
buted to these semi-religious, semi-social reformers. 
He had joined the Peers in a petition against them 
as early as December, 1406, and when he became 
King, he seems to have allowed himself, under the 
influence of the higher clergy, to believe anything 
almost against them as heretics and rebels. He 
tried his personal influence with Oldcastle, and his 
powers of argument, before abandoning him to his 
enemies, but after this I cannot find that he dis- 
played any deep sympathy in his fate. There was a 
hardness of character induced on occasions by his 
religious zeal, which was also engendered on other 
occasions by his military esprit de corps. He cer- 
tainly pushed the severities then licensed in warfare 
to a very questionable extent. Yet in the face of 
the strong testimony borne by French writers to his 
just and impartial government of France, and the 
protection he accorded to the middle and lower 
classes in that country against their feudal oppres- 



HENEY THE FIFTH. 187 

sors, I cannot call him harsh or cruel in his general 
disposition. At home he was almost worshipped by 
the people, and while the nobles were fascinated by 
his knightly qualities, and the clergy by his piety 
and devotion to the interests of the Church, the 
Commons in Parliament seemed willing to incur any 
expense and grant any supplies that he declared to 
be necessary for the support of the honour of the 
country. He had little time for home administration 
after his accession to the throne, and the great 
mistake of his life — his French wars — never operated 
so disastrously as in this respect. His government 
would probably have been just, on the whole, but 
firm and unbending to the verge, if not beyond it, of 
severity. He was capable, indeed, of great gene- 
rosity, and of considerable acts of leniency. He 
released his rival, Mortimer, from his restraint ; he 
restored the son of Henry Percy to his ancestral 
honours. There was little suspicion or jealousy in 
his nature. He was frank and fearless, because he 
felt so self-reliant and so capable. He was self- 
reliant also, because he had a strong religious faith, 
and believed himself only an instrument in the hands 
of Providence. Prom the same source came his 
defects. He was severe, and a persecutor from a 
strong sense of duty, which overcame all other con- 
siderations. He had strong sympathies, but he was 
more than their master — he was sometimes their 
unconscious tyrant. That he believed it his duty, 



188 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

as inheriting the throne of Edward the Third, to 
engage in the French war, is evident from the 
manner in which the clergy, for their own purposes, 
played on his mind in this direction. His love of 
enterprise, engendered by a life spent in almost 
incessant campaigns, was no donbt greatly inflamed 
by his abhorrence of the anarchy into which France 
seemed falling, and which appeared to summon him 
to her rescue, and there is evidence that he con- 
sidered himself called on hj God to punish the sins 
of the French people. 

The picture of his personal appearance, drawn by 
a contemporary who was probably attached to the 
royal household in the capacity of chaplain, and who, 
at any rate, seems to have had great opportunities 
of close personal observation of Henry, appears to 
accord with this character. The form of his head is 
said to have been spherical, his forehead remarkably 
full, the symbol, as the writer observes, of a powerful 
mind. His hair was brown, thick, and smooth, and 
his nose straight; his face oblong; his complexion 
was florid; his eyes were bright, large, and of a 
reddish tinge, dove-like when unmoved, but fierce as 
those of a lion when he was angered. His teeth 
were even and white as snow, his ears graceful and 
small, his chin cleft, his neck fair an4 of a becoming 
thickness throughout; his cheeks of a rosy hue in 
part, and in part of a delicate whiteness ; his lips of 



HENRY THE FIFTH. 189 

a vermilion tint, his limbs well formed, and the 
bones and sinews of his frame firmly knit together. 
His schoolmaster had been his uncle, the celebrated 
Cardinal Beaufort, one of the most astute men of the 
age, and we have evidence that he imbibed a taste 
for learning and literature, and a pleasure in the 
society of literary and learned men. While Prince 
of Wales, he requested the poet Lyclgate to trauslate 
the ' Destruction of Troy/ because he wished the 
story to be known generally to high and low. Lyd- 
gate tells us that the Prince, to avoid the vice of 
sloth and idleness, employed himself in exercising 
his body in martial plays, according to the instruc- 
tions of Vegetius. As Prince, also, he became a 
patron of the poet Oceleve, who addresses to him 
two of his poems. His great love of music and his 
proficiency in archery complete the record of his 
special tastes and accomplishments. The chaplain 
already quoted attributes to him a quiet and dignified 
sense of humour and a versatility of mood, which 
rather ]end countenance to a modified reception of 
the stories of Prince Hal. His temper seems to 
have been generally bright and cheerful, but to have 
been subject to occasional fits of moodiness, the 
soldier and man of the world, perhaps, alternating in 
his mind with the brooding religious devotee. 

Such was Henry of Monmouth, the third hero-king 
of the English people, and the noblest representative 



190 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of the House of Lancaster, — a Bayard, a Statesman, 
and a Fanatic, — the Eoman Catholic Coligny, we 
might almost call him, of the fifteenth century, — yet 
above all, in everything that he said or did, a King 
and an Englishman. 



191 



HENRY THE SIXTH. 

The transition in one generation from one of the 
most energetic and successful of our Kings to one of 
the feeblest and most unfortunate — from one of the 
most self-reliant to one of the most dependent, and 
from a Hero-King to a Crowned Monk, is a fact 
worthy of some attention in any study of the descent 
and degeneration of character. Unlike as Henry of 
Monmouth and his son, Henry of Windsor, appear 
to be in their developed characters, and although 
the dissimilarity became such as to constitute almost 
a generic difference, there were some features in the 
character of both which exhibit a family likeness, 
and a difference of degree rather than of kind. 
Henry of Windsor was, indeed, an example of the 
effect of constitutional disease on family character- 
istics. There can be little doubt that he inherited 
from his grandfathers on both sides a diseased consti- 
tution. Henry the Fourth, as we have seen, was a 
sufferer from leprosy and epilepsy ; Henry the Fifth is 
said by some writers not to have been entirely exempt 
from the former complaint ; while Charles the Sixth 



192 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of France was for a considerable part of his life a 
decided maniac. It was from these debilitating 
sources that the constitution of the successor to the 
hero of Agincourt was derived; and it was under 
conditions and modifications imposed by these, that 
whatever there was in his qualities in common with 
his father was necessarily developed. There might 
be irritability and occasional violence with a cha- 
racter thus derived — there could scarcely have been 
strength or vigour. But, in fact, Henry the Sixth 
was not violent at any time, and his mind, when it 
became affected, tottered on the brink of idiotcy, 
and not of madness. It was rather a general 
weakening and stagnation of the bodily and mental 
frame than a derangement of either. In the fits of 
illness to which he became subject he lost both sense 
and memory, and the use of his limbs. When 
addressed by a deputation of the Peers he neither 
spoke nor moved, nor showed the smallest sign of 
intelligence. The deputation, in the zealous dis- 
charge of their duty, shook the unfortunate man, 
but they excited neither voice nor attention. They 
had him moved from one room to another, they 
pulled him about, but nothing could rouse him from 
his absolute lethargy. He could breathe and eat, 
but that was all. Such was the form which his 
disease assumed during its greatest though very 
transient intensity, and this was the general tendency 
of his constitution. At other times, and in the 



HENKY THE SIXTH. 193 

usual course of his life, he was rational enough in 
the ordinary sense of the term, capable of consider- 
able intellectual exertion in certain directions, and 
of a fair amount of intellectual apprehension. He 
inherited his father's love of books and learning and 
the learned, but the two men must have been 
students in a very different spirit. Henry of Mon- 
mouth read and listened on such subjects with the 
keen and active mind of a statesman and, perhaps, 
a casuist ; his son read in a passive manner, as a 
recluse might read, and imbibed knowledge with the 
spirit of a pedagogue and a pious moralist. The 
tendency to direct others was really a common 
element in both father and son, but in the fifth 
Henry it displayed itself in administrative capacity 
— in the sixth Henry in moral admonitions and a 
mild moral supervision. But their practical success 
was very unequal in the two. The elder Henry, as 
we have seen, gained at an early age the confidence 
of all England, as he did, at a later period, of France, 
by his judicious government ; for with considerable 
frankness of manner at least, and, on the whole, a 
fair average amount of actual sincerity and veracity, 
joined to a strong sense of duty, he was an expe- 
rienced man of the world. The younger Henry, as 
a monk who knew him well tells us, was ' a man of 
pure simplicity of mind, without the least deceit or 
falsehood ; he did nothing by trick, he always spoke 
truth, and performed every promise he made; he 

o 



194 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

never knowingly would do an injury to anyone. A 
bishop who had been his confessor for ten years, 
declared that he had heard nothing wrong confessed 
— only venial faults. He disliked the sports and 
business of the world — he thought them frivolous/ 
and in the simplicity of his heart felt impelled to 
reform that world of men and manners around him 
of the real character of which he knew actually 
nothing. This was his little enthusiasm — neither 
vehement nor ambitious. ' He was fond of exhorting 
his friends and visitors, and especially young men, 
to avoid vice, to pursue virtue, and to attach them- 
selves to piety. He was fond of sending epistles of 
advice to many of his clergy, full of moral exhorta- 
tions, to the astonishment of many. 5 When he saw 
some ' young gentlewomen ' dancing in dresses which 
he considered immodest, he turned away to his 
room, exclaiming, 6 Fie ! fie ! for shame ! forsooth 
ye be to blame.' Sometimes his reforming tastes 
took a more practical and permanent form. It is 
well known that he was the founder of the great 
educational establishments of Eton and King's 
College, Cambridge, and from the proximity of his 
palace to the former place, he took much pleasure in 
looking after the schoolboys. f When the scholars 
came to Windsor Castle on a visit to some of his 
attendants, he was fond of going to them, and 
giving to them moral exhortations to be steadily 
virtuous. He usually added a present of money, 



HENEY THE SIXTH. 195 

with, this short address, "Be good lads, meek and 
docile, and attend to yonr religion ; " but he did not 
like to see them at Court, from his dread of seeing 
them contaminated by the dissolute example of his 
courtiers,' with whom, alas ! it would appear the 
King was conscious he bad not been very successful 
in his missionary efforts. e He was very affectionate 
to his two half-brothers,' Edmund and Jasper Tudor 
— the former the father of Henry the Seventh — 
6 and had them carefully brought up under the most 
honest and virtuous ecclesiastics.' But when the 
lads came to stay with him in the palace, they must 
have had a rather constrained and dreary time of it, 
for Henry, with all the pains that the most over- 
anxious mother could take, exercised a strict sur- 
veillance over them, keeping watch from his own 
windows, lest anything improper should go on in 
their apartments. 

This didactic spirit — which, bowever modified in 
form by the mild and gentle disposition of the King, 
must have been often 'fussy and foolish in its practical 
exercise — received its peculiar direction from the 
religious feelings of Henry, which gave the prevail- 
ing tone to his character. There had been a theo- 
logical taste, if not a devotional tendency, in the 
House of Lancaster from John of Gaunt downward. 
The son of Edward the Third had been drawn by 
it to a patronage of the doctrines and person of 
Wickliffe ; Henry of Bolingbroke had been led by it 

o 2 



196 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

to become the zealous friend and champion of the 
Eoman Catholic clergy ; while in Henry of Mon- 
mouth the same tone of mind had culminated in 
something of the spirit of an old Crusader against 
the Aibigenses. The feebler and gentler type of his 
son's religious zeal was principally shown in the 
personal devoutness and mild asceticism of a saint 
or cloistered recluse. With an implicit faith in the 
Church, he left to its authorised ministers the un- 
congenial task of persecution, and was satisfied with 
being himself a sort of lay monk, and with trying to 
make all others like him, and the world itself one 
vast religious house for the performance of acts of 
piety and devotion. As might be supposed, from 
such a temperament and such an intellectual calibre, 
the formalities of religion had great weight with 
him, and possessed great interest for his mind. 
6 He loved/ says our monk-panegyrist, ' to read the 
Scriptures and the old chronicles. He was assiduous 
in prayer. His demeanour at church was peculiarly 
reverential ; he would not sit indifferently down, or 
walk about during the service, as was then the 
fashion ; but with an uncovered head, and bent 
knees, and his eyes constantly on his book, or with 
his hands raised to heaven, he performed earnestly 
his devotions, and meditated deeply within as the 
Scriptures were being read. He would not allow 
swords or spears to be brought into the church, nor 
contracts to be made nor conversations to be carried 



HENKY THE SIXTH. 197 

on there. His Sundays were always consecrated to 
devotion, and to corresponding reading. His other 
days were passed in some public business, or in 
reading the Scriptures, or history, to which he was 
greatly attached.' In his practical life also, however, 
he showed that his religion was no mere formal act. 
6 He was very liberal to the poor ; he never oppressed 
those subject to him with immoderate exactions, as 
other great men did ; but he was fond of living 
among them, as a father among his children. His 
kindness of feeling was so great, that hearing one 
day that a person of his household had been robbed, 
he sent him twenty nobles, with an admonition to 
take more care of his property, but with a request 
not to prosecute the thief. Coming one day from 
St. Alban's to Cripplegate, he saw a quarter of a man 
impaled on a stake there for treason. He was greatly 
shocked, and exclaimed, " Take it away ! I will not 
have any Christians so cruelly treated on my ac- 
count." Having heard that four gentlemen of noble 
birth were about to suffer for treason to him, he sent 
his pardon with an earnest expedition to the place 
of their punishment.' He carried his patience and 
forgiveness to great lengths in matters that concerned 
himself. In his imprisonment we are told that a 
man struck him a violent blow on his neck with a 
weapon, meaning to have dashed out his brains or 
to have beheaded him. The King bore it patiently, 
and only exclaimed, ' Forsooth ! forsooth ! you do 



198 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

foully to strike so a king anointed.' 6 Forsooth,' 
and ' forsooth/ the monk tells us, were his only 
affirmatives, and he frequently rebuked his lords for 
their violent oaths. Another person, while he was 
in the Tower, stabbed him in the side, and then, 
thinking he had killed him, fled away. This was 
before Henry's short Restoration. During that 
period the would-be assassin was taken and brought 
to the King on his throne, who was then conva- 
lescent, and who immediately pardoned him. This 
last attack, from its being mentioned that Henry 
(when he thus acted) was only just getting well, 
seems to have occurred not many months before his 
actual death, to which it may have contributed. 
'His dress was plain, nor would he wear the up- 
pointed horn-like toes then in fashion. He had a 
great aversion to the vehement knocking on his doors 
when a great man came.' 

A nature so simple and good, so gentle and kindly 
even in its weakness, so unselfish and so tenderly 
humane, even if we have it here represented with 
some friendly exaggeration, points to a man who, 
one might suppose, could not have made an im- 
placable enemy, and must have commanded love, 
and moral if not intellectual respect, from all classes. 
His peculiarities might be tiresome and a little 
irritating, but proceeding from such a man, could 
provoke, one would think, no deep feeling of resent- 
ment. His kindliness was of a far nobler and more 



HENRY THE SIXTH. 199 

sterling character than that of Henry the Third, 
just in proportion as he was morally so much better 
a man. The influence exerted by such a disposition 
on those around him and on the kingdom at large 
must, one would have supposed, have been a tran- 
quilising and beneficent one. Yet we find his reign 
one continued succession of violence, anarchy, and 
misgovernment. And this was, to a considerable 
extent, the result of the one great defect in the 
character of Henry, — his intellectual weakness, fos- 
tered, if not produced, by constitutional disease. 

This disease was afterwards so nmrked that it 
must have existed even in his early years, though he 
is not responsible for the misrule which prevailed 
during that period. A child of five months at his 
father's death, in his sixth year he was transferred 
from the care of a governess to that of Richard de 
Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, a man better fitted to 
train up another Henry of Monmouth than such a 
child as Henry of Windsor must have been. Some 
writers have conjectured that his stern want of 
sympathy may have cowed and broken the spirit of 
the boy, and so brought on the feebleness of his 
subsequent conduct. This hypothesis is chiefly 
grounded on the character of the Earl, and on the ap- 
plication he made for increased powers for correcting 
the child when he arrived at the age of ten. It seems 
that young Henry had then already shown the beset- 
ting and fatal defect of his character, — a pliability in 



200 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the hands of those who made great professions of 
personal devotion to him. Warwick complains that 
people have access to him who put into his head 
notions of self-importance, and make him insubordi- 
nate to correction. Of course, no one could expect 
in a child of such an age a power to discriminate 
between flattery and true friendship ; but unfortu- 
nately the want of all power of discriminating 
character became more palpably and more fatally 
evident as Henry grew up ; and by this, and his 
equally unfortunate tendency to yield in everything 
to those in whom he had for the moment confidence, 
his virtues became useless, and often even were 
turned into instruments of evil and injustice. Then 
he was in the hands, during his early years, of 
ambitious men, who allowed him no legitimate 
means of forming his mind by the observation and 
consideration of State affairs, and who employed the 
influence they successively obtained over him to the 
advancement of their own selfish interests, or the 
overthrow of their personal rivals. Humphrey of 
Gloucester may have been a much better man than 
the Cardinal Beaufort ; York and the Nevilles may 
have been far better statesmen than Suffolk and 
Somerset; but the King was the victim of the 
personal policy of all, and, perhaps necessarily from 
his natural feebleness of mind, a mere puppet and 
tool in the hands of all. He had no opportunity 
given him of strengthening his mind, even if he had 



HENRY THE SIXTH. 201 

been capable of so doing. Had he married a wife of 
good sense and right feeling, something of the evil 
might have been remedied ; for a good and clever 
adviser, with the opportunities and identity of in- 
terests of a wife, was all important to such a man. 
But Margaret of Anjou, though a woman of ability 
and force of character, was overbearing and vindic- 
tive, narrow-minded, prejudiced, and. in her way also 
a tool in the hands of others. It was not without 
reason that her father warned her, as he did the 
King, on this latter point. Fond of directing, her- 
self, she became the tool of favourites who flattered 
her pretensions, just as the King, with his love of 
giving advice, was always following the bad advice 
of unworthy people about his person. The testimony 
of Dr. Gascoigne, Chancellor of Oxford, who died 
before the deposition of Henry, is suggestive on this 
point. ' If the King ever becomes angry with any 
of his servants for detected falsehood, he forgets the 
fault the next day, and praises and obeys the false 
counsellor as if he had never done wrong.' The 
same writer tells us that ' many persons told Henry 
the Sixth that famous preachers, doctors, by their 
preaching against the sins habitual in his Privy 
Council, caused animosities among the people against 
him. Yet the public injuries, and the annual taxes 
and tithes, and the alienation of the goods of the 
Crown, and the want of justice from the judges 
of the Church and kingdom were so manifest and 



202 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

so numerous, that if these preachers wished to have 
been silent, the very stones, that is, the popular 
multitude, would have cried out. 5 The Church, the 
especial object of Henry's own devoted attachment, 
was as corrupt as the State administration. Even 
touching the point on which Henry was himself so 
earnest in his wishes, ' immoral young men ' were 
promoted in the Church, < whom ' (says the aggrieved 
Chancellor) ' I myself knew to be unable to pronounce 
Latin, and who did not even receive their own 
revenues, but sent their servants to take and spend 
them.' Thus the earnest, saint-like King, partly 
through absolute intellectual inability, partly through 
trusting to others what he ought to have seen to him- 
self, lent himself to every kind of mal-administration, 
and became unconsciously associated in his acts 
with falsehood, cruelty, extortion, irreligion, in fact, 
with everything that was the most abhorrent to his own 
feelings and principles ; and even in his most lucid 
periods lent his presence and the sanction of his 
apparently willing assent to acts of such doubtful 
and contradictory character, as at length to destroy 
all feeling of regard and sympathy in a people who 
had long clung to him against the ambitious schemes 
of the rival House of York. When the Duke of 
York first put forward his claims to the crown, the 
popular feeling was still so kindly towards Henry, 
that the temporary compromise effected was a 
necessity for the victorious party ; but when Henry 



HENRY THE SIXTH. 203 

fell at a later period into the hands of his enemies, 
he could be paraded through the streets of the 
metropolis, with his legs tied ignominiously under 
his horse, without evoking any expression of popular 
sympathy or pity. The farce of a good King who 
lent his name and seeming assent to all evil was at 
last played out, and Henry died in the Tower of 
London, with the usual circumstances of mystery 
attending a death in that terrible prison, leaving 
behind him the curious double reputation of a saint 
at whose tomb miracles were said to be worked, and 
whom the son of his brother, Edmund Tudor, tried 
to induce the Pope to canonise, and of one of the 
most worthless sovereigns that has sat on the 
English throne. This worthlessness is explained 
by the simple fact that he was so much occupied 
with his religious services, and with giving moral 
advice, that he himself forgot to reign, and was 
never really a King at all. 



~204 



EDWARD THE FOURTH, 

Any attempt to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion 
respecting the real conduct and character of Edward 
the Fourth, is attended with the difficulty to which 
I have already alluded in speaking of the Princes 
of the House of Lancaster, and in a still higher 
degree. Not only are the contemporary accounts 
few and meagre in the extreme, as well as the 
materials from other sources; but these contem- 
porary chroniclers, with one solitary exception, are 
either strong Lancastrians, or did not compose their 
histories until after the battle of Bos worth and the 
overthrow of the House of York, when it had become 
the fashion and their interest to exalt the Lancas- 
trian interest at the expense of the memory of its 
rival. One circumstance, however, has, to some 
degree, operated in favour of Edward's personal 
fame, — his being the father of Henry the Seventh's 
wife and Henry the Eighth's mother. Influenced, 
no doubt, by this consideration, the writers of the 
Tudor period, while they studiously decry the Yorkist 
as opposed to the Lancastrian cause, have been 



EDWAED THE EOUKTH. 205 

induced to soften their censure of the first sovereign 
of the former family, and indulge in some panegyric, 
while not concealing the salient faults of his cha- 
racter. Thus, in a personal point of view, we have, 
perhaps (between these conflicting influences), in 
their delineations, as far as they go, a greater ap- 
proximation to impartiality and the actual truth 
than is often met with in contemporary writings. 

The difficulty in arriving at an estimate of Edward 
does not in fact lie so much in our imperfect know- 
ledge of the facts of his life and conduct, as in the 
task of deducing from these anything like an intel- 
ligible and consistent character. Never have the 
intellectual and sensuous, the masculine and the 
voluptuous qualities been presented in any King in 
greater intensity and in more strikingly antagonistic 
contrast. The King and the Man seem both alike 
to resolve themselves into several independent and 
thoroughly dissimilar persons, each of whom has his 
history and each of whom has left behind a strong 
impression on his times ; and so distinct appears to 
be the action of each that we are inclined to ask, not 
only Which is the real Edward ? but Had the real 
Edward any paramount and governing characteristic 
at all? And yet all these distinct phases of cha- 
racter seem to be established on satisfactory evidence, 
and the problem appears to have puzzled and misled 
contemporaries as much as it does ourselves, and to 
have baffled to some extent even the crafty insight 



206 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of Louis the Eleventh of France. The present por- 
trait, therefore, must be presented with considerable 
diffidence and a certain amount of reserve. 

The antagonism begins in Edward's physical con- 
stitution and personal appearance. ' King Edward,' 
writes in the early Tudor period Polydore Yergil 
(who had excellent means of information, and con- 
siderable discrimination in availing himself of them), 
'was very tall of personage, exceeding the stature 
almost of all others, of comely visage, pleasant look, 
broad-breasted, the residue even to his feet propor- 
tionally correspondent.' Sir Thomas More describes 
him similarly as 'a goodly personage, and very 
princely to behold ; of visage lovely, of body mighty, 
strong and clean made.' That he was handsome to 
an uncommon degree all writers concur in stating. 
De Comines, who knew him, twice mentions that he 
was the most beautiful prince he had ever seen, or of 
his time; and De Comines, as a counsellor of the 
Duke of Burgundy and Louis the Eleventh, had 
ample opportunities of making such a comparison. 
A story is told, though we do not possess it on con- 
temporary authority, which is not in itself improb- 
able, and at any rate illustrates the popular tradition 
of this personal beauty and attractiveness. He asked 
an old lady what she would give him towards the 
war, and she replied, ' For thy lovely face thou shalt 
have twenty pounds ! ' which was twice as much as 
the King expected, who thanked and kissed her. 



EDWAED THE FOUKTH. 207 

This personal beauty was, no doubt, the source of 
what we may call the effeminate side of Edward's 
character. It made him a magnificent fop, and with 
the natural temperament of which it was the index, 
made him also an epicurean of the first water in 
every part of his ordinary life, — an unrestrained 
glutton, an indolent and self-indulgent voluptuary, 
and a reckless and unscrupulous seducer. De Comines 
says he indulged himself in a larger share of ease 
and pleasure than any prince in his time. To the 
same writer it appeared that 'his thoughts were 
wholly employed upon the ladies, on hunting, and 
on dressing. In his summer's hunting, his custom 
was to have tents set up for the ladies, where he 
treated them often in a splendid and magnificent 
manner. 5 He did not confine his entertainments to 
the upper classes ; indeed, it became more and more 
his custom, as his life advanced, to mix familiarly 
with all classes. The London citizen Fabyan, writing 
at the beginning of the Tudor period, tells us that 
' in July, 1481, the King invited the Mayor and part 
of the Corporation to a hunt in Waltham Forest, 
and feasted them with a rich dinner and wine in a 
bower of green boughs, and gave them plenty of 
venison at parting. The next month he sent two 
harts and six bucks to the wives of the Mayor and 
Aldermen with a tun of wine to drink with them.' 
His Court was a model of stately magnificence. He 
was very fond of music, and very liberal in his allow- 



208 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

ance to his minstrels. He took great pleasure in 
setting off his fine person to the best advantage, and 
in introducing new fashions in dress. His tailor, 
Guillemi Pauit, had an allowance of a shilling a day, 
and five pounds a year from his purse. The new 
fashion that he chose for his last State dresses was 
to have very full hanging sleeves, like a monk's, 
lined with the most sumptuous furs, and so rolled 
over his shoulders as to give his tall person an air of 
peculiar grandeur. A Sumptuary Act gave him an 
opportunity of fixing the distinctive marks according 
to dress of every grade of society, from the cloth of 
gold of the Eoyal Family, down to the cloth of two 
shillings a yard and under of the labourer, servant, 
or artificer. For Edward, with all his familiarity 
among various classes, was a great stickler for dis- 
tinctions of rank. Women's Rights, however, were 
recognised by a proviso that the Act should not 
extend to the wives of any but the two-shillings-a- 
yard class. Unless he is belied, he was as curious in 
his amatory as in his sumptuous tastes. He used to 
say, we are told, that he had three mistresses who 
excelled in three distinct properties. One was the 
wittiest, another the williest, the third the holiest 
harlot in his kingdom. 

His great self-indulgence brought on during the 
last part of his life a corpulence which injured his 
personal appearance, and which also contributed, no 
doubt, in a great measure to his premature death 



EDWAED THE FOURTH. 209 

before lie had completed the forty-first year of his 
age. It impeded the activity of movement, and 
lessened the promptness of action, which once dis- 
tinguished him, and which sprang, too, from a strong 
physique, and an energetic and powerful mind. The 
same self-indulgence, at a comparatively early period, 
gave a wrong impression of his capabilities, and so 
brought upon the King disappointments and dangers 
which probably he would otherwise have avoided. 
De Comines deemed him a man of no great insight 
or foresight. The Earl of Warwick, while abroad, 
gave out, at any rate, that he looked on him as a 
very weak prince; and Louis sometimes also pro- 
fessed to despise him, though he prided himself on 
no part of his policy so much as on the warding off 
of Edward's invasion of France. The inaction and 
seeming indifference of Edward no doubt really 
deceived many others, and induced them to mis- 
count on his inefficiency at the moment of trial. 
But in England, at any rate, as time wore on, the 
King's real character became better understood, and 
it was known that the lion, though slothfully cou- 
chant, was not sleeping; that although the spring 
from repose might be sometimes deferred too long 
for safety, yet when it came it was well aimed and 
terribly effective. From his father Edward had in- 
herited, together with good looks and popular man- 
ners, powers of great bodily activity and endurance, 
an unwearied and indomitable energy and persever- 

p 



210 ESTIMATES- OE THE* ENGLISH KINGS. 

ance, a determined will, a mind of no common 
clearness and grasp, and a spirit which, when roused, 
could be as fierce and unrelenting as it was ordi- 
narily good-natured and humane. When the emer- 
gency called for the exercise of these powers, the 
pleasant indolent voluptuary became another man, 
and woe to those who had calculated on his inertia ! 
Nor was he altogether lost in pleasure-seeking, even 
in his most epicurean moods. We find that he dis- 
tributed persons throughout the country, among the 
manors and strongholds, in various places of position, 
whose duty it was to watch carefully all that went 
on in the heart of society, and send him regular and 
minute accounts of events and of men. These he 
carefully perused and mastered, and as his memory 
was extraordinary, he never forgot what he had thus 
learnt, and is said to have acquired an unrivalled 
knowledge of the workings of English society, and 
of the characters of individual men throughout the 
kingdom. All England learnt this in time, and all 
England was awed into quiet by the knowledge, and 
even crouched under his omnipresent administration. 
Thus, while he seemed to be a mere trifler and man 
of pleasure, he quietly watched the play of the social 
chessboard, and if he sometimes delayed his own 
decisive move until it was too late, he did so from 
over-finesse, rather than from ignorance or indiffer- 
ence. Eor, like other able men, he rather liked 
to disguise his ability in ordinary times, and to 



EDWAKD THE FOURTH. 211 

affect an insouciance and indolence which had no 
existence in fact. His confidence in his own re- 
sources and power of turning the tables suddenly 
against an adversary, led him sometimes to let the 
dangers accumulate until the immediate result was a 
rather humiliating defeat. He delayed so long any 
preparations against the threatened invasion of 
Warwick in 1470, and so coolly neglected the warn- 
ings of his brother-in-law of Burgundy, that he 
found himself in a few days a seemingly hopeless 
fugitive, seeking shelter and craving assistance in 
the very quarter from which the timely warning had 
proceeded. How wonderfully his brave spirit sup- 
ported him under these circumstances, and how 
great was the display of wise daring and equally 
effective prudence, patience, and self-restraint during 
the memorable expedition which ended in his resto- 
ration to power, nothing but a perusal of the con- 
temporary and authoritative narrative of that revo- 
lution which we fortunately possess can convey any 
idea of. 

The reader, however, of that narrative must go 
to its perusal with no idea of finding excessive 
scrupulousness on the part of Edward. He was pro- 
bably not worse, and perhaps better, on the point of 
veracity than most of the leading men of his age ; 
but he had nothing of the sacred regard for a promise 
which marked the character of his rival Henry when 
he was left to his own better mind. Edward was not 

p 2 



212 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

an habitual liar or perjurer, but lie scrupled at 
neither lie nor perjury, nor any other deceit, when 
he thought the occasion called for it. He was a very 
scrupulous observer of the forms of religion, perhaps 
all the more so because he so frequently violated the 
substance. He had entered on his reign with a 
prejudice against the Church, which had been 
generally the supporter of the House of Lancaster, 
and during the first ten years of his administration 
he seems to have incurred the displeasure of the 
ecclesiastics, and to have in one instance, at any rate, 
interposed his veto to prevent an enactment which 
would, under the cover of common fame, have 
placed the life of every suspected Lollard at the 
mercy of any personal enemy. But after his 
restoration, Edward seems to have felt the necessity 
of courting, or at least conciliating the Church, and 
we find him praised by clerical writers as an ardent 
enemy of heresy, and judicious and liberal patron of 
the clergy. 

It is a difficult question to answer whether the 
government of Edward was really popular. Personally, 
as we know, he was popular at the beginning of his 
reign, and also for the most part during his second 
term of government. His personal and administrative 
popularity had certainly declined at the time when 
Warwick overthrew him ; the authoritative account 
of his restoration already alluded to leaves no doubt 
on this point, especially as relates to the feelings of 



EDWAED THE FOUKTH. 213 

the Londoners, usually his greatest admirers. The 
Rolls of Parliament (meagre in the extreme during 
this reign) are silent as to any complaints of 
grievances, and contain no Act for the redress of any 
such. But - we know that Edward first introduced the 
illegal device of extra-Parliamentary Benevolences, 
and the quasi-Parliamentary assembly which, after 
his death, invited his brother Eichard to assume the 
Crown, speaks out plainly and indignantly against 
the system of government under which the nation 
had groaned. There probably was a designed ex- 
aggeration in this statement, in order to support 
the deposition of Edward's son, but the account 
given of Edward's system of espionage leaves an 
impression of terrorism. 

The probability is that Englishmen bore with much 
without complaint through fear of the miseries of 
a renewed civil war. The character of the King 
himself, and of his government, also was such as to 
lull any disposition to resistance. Although he 
resorted at times to illegal means of raising money, 
Edward (during his second government) depended 
far more on his power of economising on the money 
which he obtained in a regular manner. There was 
comparatively light, regular taxation during this 
period, and the King, who had found an empty 
exchequer, left, it is admitted by unfriendly writers, 
a very full one, and a nation growing rapidly in 
wealth and prosperity. This prosperity and w r ealth 



214 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

arose partly from the King's support of municipal 
privileges and patronage of commercial enterprise, 
and still more from his abstinence from needless 
wars, and his discouragement of an habitual warlike 
spirit. Most skilful and successful as a soldier as he was, 
and flinging himself as he did into any enterprise with 
the spirit of a crusader or knight-errant, Edward had 
no penchant for war in itself, and disliked and des- 
pised fruitless and purposeless warfare. Although 
nothing would have tended more to establish his 
throne for the moment than the reconquest of France, 
and though he himself was very desirous of check- 
ing the increasing power of Louis the Eleventh, he 
never would commit himself and the country to such 
an undertaking without fair prospects of rapid 
success. He landed once in France with a great 
army, but it was because he had an assurance from 
the Duke of Burgundy of his zealous assistance ; but 
on Burgundy failing him altogether, he had no scruple 
— his courtiers had still less — in receiving a sum of 
money and an annual payment from Louis, and with- 
drawing his army. On another occasion, he had 
abandoned his preparations for a similar expedition, 
on a like desertion of the Duke of Bretagne. That 
he should not care to interfere by arms to prevent 
the annexation to the Crown of France of the do- 
minions of either of these princes may have been a 
mistake in policy, according to the views then 
generally entertained, but will not be imputed as a 



EDWARD THE EOUETH. 215 

great fault by politicians of tlie present day. His 
foreign policy, indeed, generally wise and successful, 
though not ambitious, received some sort of dishonour 
in this matter, owing to the belief that his inaction 
was caused or assured by the promise which Louis 
held out to him of a marriage between the heir to 
the Trench Crown and Edward's eldest daughter; 
and his anger at the breach of this engagement is 
said to have contributed to the fatal result of the 
King's last illness. But if in this case his wife's 
ambition (to which his desire for this match was 
attributed) seconded too strongly the restraining 
influence of his constitutional love of peace, the 
effect of this temperament in general was most 
beneficial on the nation at large. A state of peace 
became the rule instead of the exception in their 
daily life, and the arts and habits of peace rapidly 
superseded those of war. And with peace came 
Caxton and his printing-press. 

Had Edward lived a little longer, this state of 
things might have been considerably modified. The 
deceit of Louis had not only wounded his pride, but 
roused him to a more lively consideration of the 
growing power of an astute and unscrupulous rival. 
Though pacific, Edward would have been the last 
man in his kingdom to allow himself to subside into 
a mere cypher in the eyes of Europe, and his death 
probably prevented a struggle in which Louis 
might have found out his mistake in playing fast 



216 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

and loose with a man of Edward's temperament and 
abilities. But Edward seems not to have taken 
Death into his calculations on any point. He 
felt so full of life, that he built up his policy at home 
as well as abroad too much on an assured longevity. 
He crushed and he overawed the great nobles, and 
raised up a new nobility out of his wife's relations 
and the strongest men who would do his service. 
But affectionate and devoted husband and father as 
he was (notwithstanding his irregularities and 
seeming carelessness), he forgot to provide against 
the danger to his family after his death, from the 
animosity of these depressed nobles, and he forgot 
that they might find a leader in one of his own 
blood. He left a very excellent and sensible paper 
of rules for his eldest son's daily life and education, 
but he forgot to secure his succession by binding it 
up with the selfish interests of the most powerful 
men. In his self-reliance, he was as reckless in 
offending them as he had been in outraging 
Warwick's pride ; but he lived to bear the brunt of 
Warwick's resentment, and to weather the storm. 
In the present instance, the inheritance of hatred 
and revenge was bequeathed to a child, who paid 
forfeit for it with his life. But strange as it may 
appear, Edward, though he watched every one, was 
too self-confident to be easily suspicious, and trusted 
most men till distrust became a manifest necessity. 
Edward the Fourth — to condense this estimate 



EDWAKD THE FOUETH. 217 

into a few words — was a shrewd but unscrupulous 
man of the world, with the aptitudes and instincts of 
a great conqueror and a profound statesman, and 
with the sense of responsibility and self-reliance of a 
self-made King, but with the tastes of an easy arid 
selfish man of pleasure, and with the habits of a 
roue. 



218 



RICHARD THE THIRD. 

The life of Edward the Fifth was so brief and his 
reign so entirely nominal, that it would be absurd to 
give any estimate of his character as a King of Eng- 
land. We see him for a moment as a child, a mere 
puppet in the hands of others, and then he disappears 
from our sight for ever, and neither contemporary 
curiosity nor modern research has been able to pene- 
trate the mystery which surrounds his fate. With 
his uncle, who supplanted him on the throne, the case 
is very different, and yet we seem to know with cer- 
tainty nearly as little of Richard the Third as of his 
unfortunate nephew. The writers of the succeeding 
period have left us a portrait which is of a monster 
rather than a man, and even the genius of a great 
dramatist, assuming their narratives as the basis for 
his creation, has hardly been able to rise above the 
presentment of an unmitigated stage villain. And 
when we endeavour to ascertain the truth or 
falsehood of this representation, which, notwith- 
standing occasional scepticism on the part of a few 
clever writers, has been generally received as true, 



RICHAED THE THIED. 219 

we find ourselves reduced almost entirely to a choice 
between the statements of unfriendly writers and the 
inferences as to character which we may think 
ourselves justified in drawing from a few ascertained 
facts, generally isolated, and some of which are not 
incapable of more than one interpretation. Under 
such circumstances, an estimate of Richard must be 
necessarily imperfect, and on some points open to 
doubt, but I think that some leading features in his 
character may be ascertained with tolerable certainty. 
If the popular judgment has been so violently 
unfavourable to Eichard, it is, on the other hand, 
almost impossible for any candid and impartial 
student of history not to feel disposed to take up the 
defence of a man whose memory has been exposed to 
such unfriendly criticism. Whether Eichard was the 
villain he is said to have been or not, it is quite certain 
that his traditional character is drawn by those who 
were either violently prejudiced against him, or 
interested in blackening his fame, — the partisans or 
flatterers of the prince who had dethroned and slain 
him. Denunciations proceeding from such a source 
cannot fail to rouse a suspicion that something 
might have been said on the other side, if Eichard 
had been as fortunate in his biographers as some of 
his predecessors, and we seem to be making ourselves 
accessories to an act of injustice in adopting without 
hesitation evidence so palpably one-sided. This 
feeling is confirmed when we find that in one instance 



220 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

at least, the change of kings operated in a very- 
suspicious manner on the tone adopted by an 
historical authority. One of the most violent 
denouncers of King Eichard is John Eous, the 
antiquary and historian, who wrote his history under 
the House of Tudor. But fortunately for us, and 
unfortunately for his reputation, we possess a Roll 
of the Earls of Warwick, drawn up by him in the 
reign of Eichard, one copy of which has escaped 
the politic alterations of the author. In this we find 
him describing Eichard as 'in his realm [ruling] 
full commendably, punishing offenders of his laws, 
especially extortioners, and oppressors of his Com- 
mons, and cherishing those that were virtuous ; by 
the which discreet guiding he gat great thanks of 
God, and love of all his subjects, rich and poor, and 
great laud of the people of all other lands about 
him.' Of course, an historical student will do well 
to distrust this panegyric as much as the subsequent 
denunciation, but the case may serve as a warning 
against receiving blindly the statements of the Tudor 
historians. On the other hand, we must not be 
misled by the fact of exceptional injustice having 
probably been done to the memory of Eichard by 
these historians into the idea that he was in reality 
in no respect such a man as they have depicted him, 
and that their portrait is a pure invention, rather 
than an exaggeration and caricature of the real man. 
As far as our present materials enable me to judge, 



m 



EICHAKD THE THIED. 221 

I it seems to me that, quite independently of their 
representations, the character of Richard is not one 
which is deserving of much admiration, or even of 
high intellectual respect. He was not, indeed, the 
exceptionally bad man among his contemporaries 
that his Tudor biographers have made him ; he was 
probably a better man than several of those whose 
reputations have been whitewashed by them, but he 
certainly was neither a good man, nor a very wise or 
great Sovereign. Indeed, it seems to me, that in 
depicting a successful villain these writers have 
unconsciously given him credit for an undue amount 
of intellectual capacity. 

The first point which requires notice with respect 
to Eichard of Gloucester is the shortness of his life. 
The popular mind cherishes the idea of an elderly 
villain, but the fact is that Eichard was killed before 
he had completed his thirty-third year. The actions 
of his life are, therefore, those of a young man, and 
should be judged in a corresponding light. The 
next point is, that the epoch at which he becomes a 
responsible agent in the political events of that age 
must be placed much later than is popularly imagined, 
and that consequently the time of his supposed 
political machinations must be limited to a com- 
paratively few years. There was an interval in age 
of ten years between him and his brother Edward, 
and on the first accession of the latter to the throne 
Eichard was only between eight and nine years old. 



222 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

He was only just eighteen when he took refuge with 
Edward in Flanders, during the temporary restora- 
tion of Henry the Sixth, and he had not completed his 
nineteenth year when he distinguished himself by 
his valour in the decisive battles of Barnet and 
Tewkesbury, and when Henry died in the Tower. 
He was little more than twenty-six when his brother 
George of Clarence died in the same fatal fortress, 
and he had not completed his thirty-first year at the 
date usually assigned as that of the murder of his 
two nephews. Even his undoubtedly premature 
appearance on the stage of public life and the natural 
precocity of his character can only modify to a certain 
extent this consideration of his comparative youth. 
His political life can hardly have commenced in 
any true sense of the term until after his brother's 
restoration in 1471, and twelve years only are there- 
fore left for the conception and consummation of all 
that villainy which is supposed to have culmina- 
ted in the murder of the young princes ; and in esti- 
mating the nature of these machinations, we must 
recollect we are speaking of a life between the ages 
of nineteen and thirty-one. 

Eichard, the eleventh of the twelve children of 
Eichard, Duke of York, was born on the 2nd of Oc- 
tober, 1452, during the short interval of tranquillity 
which followed the first armed struggle between the 
houses of York and Beaufort, — a contest in a later 
stage of which he himself perished. And here we 



RICHARD THE THIRD. 223 

ij 

are at once encountered by the calumnies of later 
- historians, who attribute to him a forbidding personal 
deformity. The truth seems to be that Bichard, 
unlike his brothers Edward and George, was puny 
in growth and . sickly in constitution. His person 
was short and slight, and though the limbs were 
compactly knit, he was not muscularly strong. His 
face, if we may judge from contemporary descriptions 
and existing portraits, was very peculiar. It was 
rather short than long, but the contrast between the 
broad forehead and prominent cheek-bones and the 
sunken cheeks gave an appearance of elongation to 
the whole face. The upper part of the forehead was 
not at all full, but there was a marked protuberance 
immediately above the eyebrows. The nose was well 
formed, and slightly aquiline, seeming to indicate 
sense and fair sagacity. The eyes — the interval 
between which was very small — seem in the portraits 
dreamy and self-centred, and the brow is contracted 
into a look of painful and anxious thought, ap- 
proaching in one portrait to something almost sinister. 
The chin is particularly well formed, firm, but 
prepossessing ; the lips are very thin, and closely 
compressed almost into a single line. The auburn 
hair falls in thick straight masses on each side of 
his face, after the fashion of his brother Edward, and 
indeed of that age generally. The impression left by 
the face is that of deep and anxious brooding, and of 
an intensely nervous, but highly-strung organisation. 



224 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

It is certainly not a face which inspires confidence, 
though it excites an uncomfortable interest. It is 
certainly, however, not the face of a vulgar hypocrite 
and assassin, any more than it is that of a man of 
noble and frank nature. The deformity exaggerated 
by his maligners probably really consisted in one 
shoulder being rather higher than the other ; he was 
certainly not a hunchback in the sense which the 
word usually implies. He was active in his habits, 
and courageous and enterprising in his spirit in a 
more than ordinary degree. His manners, on the 
other hand, seem to have been quiet and reserved ; 
his eyes, as the portraits also testify, are said to have 
been habitually mild in expression, but became fierce 
and threatening when his passion was once thoroughly 
roused. He was courteous and pleasing in his 
address, and he appeals to have exercised when he 
chose an extraordinary fascination over those with 
whom he came in contact. But with one or two 
exceptions the power he thus obtained over the minds 
of others was transient in its character, and, as a rule, 
he seems to have been unable to retain the confidence 
which he so strangely gained. Francis, Lord Lovell, 
indeed, — i Lovell our dog 5 — who appears to have 
been a ward of the great Earl of Warwick at the 
same time that Richard was himself under the care 
of the King-maker, and about whose ultimate fate 
such a mystery hangs, clung to Eichard to the last 
with a fidelity worthy of the animal which gave 



EICHAED THE THIRD. 225 

him his sobriquet. John and Thomas Howard — the 
'jockey of Norfolk,' and his gallant son, Surrey, 
were also true in the hour of danger, but they had 
certainly a strong personal interest in the mainten- 
ance of the . power of Eichard. Most, however, of 
the men whom he seemed to have gained for the 
time, forsook or betrayed him. The two infamous 
Stanleys would probably have betrayed anyone, if 
such a course seemed to open a path to their 
aggrandisement. But Hastings, whom he is said to 
have at one time loved better than any man, and 
who stood by him stoutly in the first crisis of his 
struggle with the Woodvilles, shook off his friendship 
immediately afterwards, and sought his destruction. 
Percy, the restored Earl of Northumberland, whom 
he honoured and trusted, and who seemed bound to 
his interests, betrayed him on the very field of 
Bosworth. Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, 
who had seemed his alter ego, deceived him grossly, 
though he did not escape a just reward for his 
dissimulation and treachery. On the other hand, 
Richard won over Queen Elizabeth Woodville, and 
all but won her son the Marquis of Dorset, even after 
he was publicly credited with the murder of the 
Princes; and the young Elizabeth of York would 
have been willing, it seems, to accept the hand of 
Richard's son, even if the story is false that she 
would gladly have become the wife of Richard 
himself. These, again, all failed him in the hour of 

Q 



226 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

need. In fact, men appeared to be won and lost 
again by him in an equally sudden and incompre- 
hensible manner. It would almost seem as if Richard, 
while he possessed the power of discovering and 
appealing successfully to some strong feeling or 
desire in the mind of another, was not capable of 
grasping a character as a whole, and through this 
imperfect apprehension lost the hold he had at first 
gained. Much of his ill-judged violence, and equally 
ill-judged confidence, may be traced to this cause. 
He destroyed Hastings, whose interests, by a little 
judicious moderation and management, might have 
been identified with his own ; and he alienated Buck- 
ingham by his disregard of some strong wish of the 
latter, after he had made him only too powerful by 
his lavish generosity. The extravagant confidence 
he placed in the Stanleys is notorious, and is alone 
sufficient to discredit his penetration into character. 
If Richard was a hypocrite and a dissembler, he 
certainly was a very poor proficient in his art, for an 
impetuous rashness and imprudence of conduct, and 
an impatience of difficulties, which made him always 
cut the Gordian knot, instead of attempting to 
unloose it, appear to be his real characteristics. 
Under this influence he was always either too violent 
or too generous. It seemed as if he restrained his 
nervous excitability, and concealed it under a smiling 
face just long enough to give the uncomfortable 
impression of a deep and designing nature, and then 



EICHAED THE THIED. 227 

gave vent to it, on some momentary occasion, with 
the excess and abandon of a man who took no 
thought before he acted. It was as if his 
judgment was not well-balanced enough for any 
medium between blind confidence and blind violence. 
His brother Edward's mind, even when seemingly 
palsied by sensual indulgence, was always clear, 
healthy, and active ; that of Richard was perplexed, 
morbid, and restless. He gave an impression of 
violence and irregularity far beyond the natural 
import of his actions. There was scarcely a public 
man then alive who might not (as far as his moral 
character is concerned) have committed most of the 
acts of cruelty attributed to Eichard; but by his 
mode of action he gave to them a character of 
exceptional atrocity which goes far beyond the actual 
fact. And so men came to attribute to him a natural 
and systematic cruelty that was really alien to 
Richard's nature, which was quite as much addicted 
to an excess of compassion and generosity as to 
anything in the opposite direction. He was ac- 
cordingly credited with nearly all the suspicious 
deaths of the period, of several of which he was 
certainly innocent. 

The young Edward, Henry the Sixth's son, ap- 
pears to have been killed in battle, calling out to his 
brother-in-law, Clarence, whom he saw in the opposite 
ranks, to save him ; and Richard had nothing what- 
ever to do with the event. Henry the Sixth himself 

o 2 



228 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

died, not improbably, though, not certainly, from 
violence; but the mere mention of the presence of 
Richard (a lad of eighteen) in the Tower about the 
supposed time of the death, is the only piece of evi- 
dence to connect him with the deed, and as the 
Queen and family of Edward were also resident in 
the Tower at the same time, this comes to very little. 
Clarence's destruction appears, from the indictment 
against him, to have been the work of the Queen's 
family. The executions of Hastings and of Rivers and 
the other members of the Woodville family have all 
the appearance of acts committed at the instigation 
of some sudden feeling of resentment and alarm. 
The Woodvilles were only committed to safe custody 
as long as it seemed that Hastings was their enemy ; 
they were executed after the seizure and execution of 
Hastings had probably led to the disclosure of some 
more of the facts of their recent plotting with that 
nobleman. The death of Hastings was evidently an 
act of resentment and alarm on the discovery of the 
hostile position he had suddenly assumed. Of the 
death of the young Princes it is not easy to speak, 
since we really know nothing as to their fate. But 
the probability seems to be that something like the 
common story actually happened ; and, at any rate, 
Richard must be held responsible for their disappear- 
ance, since he never produced them, when it became 
his manifest interest thus to refute the accusations 
against him. That he certainly gave special rewards 



KICHAKD THE THIED. 229 

to the men to whom common opinion afterwards 
attributed the deed is a fact of comparatively little 
weight, since the most trusted of his confidential 
agents would be just those to whom the public would 
be likely to assign the commission of the deed ; but 
the coincidence of the reward of these persons with 
the supposed time of the Princes' deaths is of slightly 
more importance. On the other hand, the conduct 
of Henry the Seventh to the man who had the charge 
of the Tower at the time of the supposed murder, 
and to whom the arrangement of the deed was popu- 
larly attributed, is very strange, on the supposition 
that that King believed the accusation against him to 
be true. The hypothesis that this alleged assassin, 
Sir James Tyrrell, revealed the fact of his complicity 
in the murder only on the eve of his subsequent 
execution for treason is purely gratuitous, and comes 
to nothing, as Henry could always have easily 
ascertained if Tyrrell had the custody of the Tower 
at the time of the alleged murder. On the whole, 
we must rest satisfied with the leading facts, that 
the Princes disappeared in the autumn of 1483, just 
in the crisis of an attempted insurrection in their 
favour, and that Richard (as far as our present 
knowledge allows us to speak) never denied that 
they were dead, had himself crowned again at York 
just about that time, and never produced the boys 
when the partisans of Henry of Eichmond proclaimed 
their murder, and when their re-appearance would 



230 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

have been a deathblow to the hopes of that pretender, 
and a matter of comparatively little risk to himself. 
It is probable, then, that Richard, without premedi- 
tating their deaths, had them destroyed on a sudden 
access of nervous alarm, and thus gave another signal 
proof of his fatal impetuosity and want of judgment. 
There can be little doubt that the deposition of the 
young King Edward was not an unpopular act, and 
that Richard, if he had ruled with ordinary steadiness 
and moderation, might have defied all the efforts of 
the young King's partisans ; while the boy's existence 
was always an obstacle to the claims of Henry of 
Richmond, and of all other possible pretenders. But 
by destroying him thus hastily, Richard not only 
threw away his best card and committed an unwise 
and unnecessary crime, but broke up the Yorkist 
party for ever, and gave a cry to all his adversaries 
of which they eagerly availed themselves. It is not 
at all impossible that Buckingham (whose preten- 
sions to the Crown were notorious) made Richard 
his cat's-paw to remove one great obstacle in the 
young Princes, and then tried to avail himself of the 
odium thus caused to destroy Richard himself. The 
subsequent attempts of Richard to conciliate Queen 
Elizabeth and the Woodvilles, and to unite their 
interests with his own, were a vain effort to escape 
from the consequences of this and other previous 
political blunders. 
The public policy and government of Richard were 



EICHAED THE THIKD. 231 

marked by the same general character of discontinuity, 
and excess in opposite directions, which marked his 
personal acts. He was always either the ardent re- 
former and rigid censor of morals, or the lavish 
patron and the ostentatious imitator of his brother's 
stately magnificence. He did many worthy things, 
and corrected several abuses; but his government 
was unsystematic, his policy changeable and incon- 
sistent, and his good and evil acts alike intermittent 
and disproportionate to the occasion. Such an ad- 
ministration is even more hostile to a settled state 
of society than one of unmixed and consistent evil. 
The sense of personal insecurity and the nervous 
alarms to which he was himself subject, seemed to 
communicate themselves to the kingdom over which 
he ruled ; and without any definite causes of complaint 
against his government, and with a certain conscious- 
ness that he was in some respects an able, and, 
generally, not an ill-disposed ruler, the nation at 
large longed for a termination of his reign, and at 
length submitted quietly, though without any eager- 
ness, to the succession of a man of whom they knew 
nothing, except that he belonged in some way to the 
Eoyal family of England, and had relieved them from 
a state of painful uncertainty and suspense. 

That Eichard was not sufficiently a bad man to be 
beyond the pangs of remorse has been deduced from 
the fact of the numerous chantries he erected in the 
places connected with some of his violent acts to 



232 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

pray for his own soul or those of his victims. But this 
act was probably as much one of superstition as of 
regret, for his nervous temperament seems to have 
rendered him particularly sensitive to superstitious 
feelings. But a feeling of remorse and a sense of 
retribution may have mingled with the bitter agony 
with which, according to a tolerably reliable chroni- 
cler, he was tortured almost to madness on receiving 
the news of the death of his only legitimate son, on 
the anniversary of the death of his brother Edward. 
Richard was a deeply-affectionate father and a de- 
voted husband, and there is probably no calumny 
more baseless than that which attributes to him the 
gradual poisoning of his wife, soon after the sad 
event with which they had both been nearly distracted. 
Anne was of a consumptive family, and her death was 
probably precipitated by that of her son. 

On the whole, as far as I can read his character, 
Richard was no deliberate villain, and not in natural 
disposition evil-minded or cruel. But his character 
and his acts were the result of a disordered nervous 
temperament, and an impatient and unstable will. 
As the second man in the State, under a sovereign 
(such as his brother Edward) whom he trusted and 
looked up to, he might have been an able and high- 
minded administrator. "When left to himself he had 
neither judgment nor self-confidence, and became a 
violent man and an unsatisfactory ruler. 



233 



HENRY THE SEVENTH. 

With Henry Tudor, or, as he is generally called, 
from his title before his accession to the Crown, 
Henry of Richmond, we commence a new era in 
English history. He belongs essentially to that 
class of founders to which we have already alluded, 
and of which the Conqueror, Henry the Second, and 
Edward the First, were our three previous examples. 
But this inauguration of a new state of society was 
not merely personal to Henry, or confined to Eng- 
land, but was the characteristic of the age in general. 
The reign of Louis the Eleventh had introduced a 
new epoch into French history, and Ferdinand of 
Aragon was doing the same for the dominions over 
which he ruled, either in his own right or in that of 
his wife. All Europe was passing at very much the 
same time from the latest stage of feudalism to a 
sort of imperialism — from the government of the 
great nobles and the privileged corporations of the 
middle-classes, to the central executive of the Crown, 
paramount either over or through the old constitu- 
tional and administrative organisations. Everywhere 



284 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Courts and Eoyal Cabinets were superseding char- 
tered institutions and customary law, and becoming 
practically the only authoritative exponents of the 
national wishes and policy. With such a revolution 
Diplomacy became naturally the chief agent in inter- 
national relations, to which the prejudices and the 
warlike or pacific dispositions of the different popula- 
tions were quite subordinated, and all statesmanship, 
even where it referred to the internal affairs of a 
particular country, was conducted in the spirit if not 
with a view to the interests of foreign diplomacy. 
Unfortunately, what the world thus gained in breadth 
of view, and superiority to national habits and 
prejudices, it lost in morality. Although the domes- 
tic statesmanship of the European rulers had not 
hitherto presented many features worthy of com- 
mendation, there was a certain restraining and 
modifying influence produced by the fact of the 
policy pursued being to a great degree the reflection 
of popular feelings, and to a corresponding degree a 
subject of interest and consequent supervision on the 
part of the people. But the more complicated and 
professional character of the statesmanship which 
now succeeded was beyond the control and compre- 
hension of the general public, and a national policy 
was replaced by the statecraft of a few royal families, 
or a few great ministers. And yet at the same time 
that it became thus personal in its character, it lost 
that sense of personal responsibility which is the 



HENEY THE SEVENTH. 235 

great safeguard of high principle. Men who, if they 
had considered their acts in the light of personal 
honour, would have disdained to lie or betray a trust, 
did so without scruple when the sense of personality 
was merged in a vague professional agency. Their 
policy became more personal, while their conscience 
became a corporate one — only another expression for 
no conscience at all. 

It was into a world which was becoming thus re- 
volutionised that Henry of Eichmond was born, and 
of this new statemanship he became one of the most 
striking embodiments. From the first he seemed 
predestined to such a position, for he had been 
brought up in a cosmopolitan school. He was born 
at Pembroke Castle in the early part of the year 
1457, a few months after the death of his father, 
Edmund Tudor ; and his mother, Margaret Beaufort, 
was at the date of his birth herself only a child of 
fourteen. He was born in the midst of civil convul- 
sions, and was marked out by his family connections 
for a life of vicissitude and danger. On his father's 
side he was descended from the Eoyal family of 
France, on his mother's from that of England. Henry 
had, it seems, a better title than he himself knew, 
the original legitimisation of the Beauforts having 
been without any reservation of royal rights; but 
strict titles, however useful in the formal announce- 
ment of pretensions, were of little use practically in 
those days, unless backed by external interest and 



236 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

personal character; and Henry stood in that am- 
biguous position in which circumstances might at 
any time give a weight to his person and preten- 
sions quite irrespective of their exact legitimacy. 

His personal appearance as King of England was 
somewhat remarkable. The offspring of a premature 
marriage, he was sickly in constitution, and probably 
had from the first within him the seeds of consump- 
tion. But his health seemed to improve as he grew 
up, and it was not till the last few years of his life 
that the badness of his constitution became painfully 
manifest. He was of full middle height; and his 
body 'lean and spare.' His complexion was very 
fair ; his eyes were grey, and his hair thin. He was 
6 of countenance merry and smiling, especially in his 
communications,' observes one of the chroniclers. 
From several anecdotes we gather that he had a 
quiet and dry humour, and that it was not difficult 
to excite him to laughter. His bearing on public 
occasions was peculiarly engaging, and the popular 
cry on his entry into York soon after his accession 
was, ' King Henry ! King Henry ! Our Lord pre- 
serve us that sweet and well-favoured face ! ' The 
late Mr. Bergenroth, who recently calendared for 
the English Government the State Papers at Siman- 
cas bearing on this reign, fully confirms this de- 
meanour of Henry. 'All foreign diplomatists,' he 
says, c who had any business to transact with him, 
mention the vivacity of his expression, and especially 



HENKY THE SEVENTH. 237 

the liveliness of his eyes. He liked to speak French, 
of which language he retained a perfect command to 
the end of his life. On the whole, he looked more 
like a Frenchman than an Englishman. He did not 
sympathise with the peculiarly national mode of 
thinking, and had imbibed so little of English 
prejudice that he did not even hate the Scots. 
Henry would have very much liked to employ 
foreigners as his servants, but was afraid of hurting 
the feelings of his subjects. He looked old for his 
years, but, as Pedro de Ayala observes, not older 
than might have been expected, considering the 
cares and troubles he had undergone. 5 That Henry 
should be un-English in his appearance and to a 
considerable extent in his feelings is not to be 
wondered at, considering his origin and the circum- 
stances of his early life. His father was the son of 
a Welshman and a Frenchwoman — Queen Catherine, 
the widow of Henry the Fifth ; he was born in 
Wales, and he passed the first fourteen years of his 
life in that principality, which then still preserved 
to a great extent its distinctive customs and feelings. 
The next fourteen years, during which his habits 
and modes of thought would be mainly formed, he 
spent in Britany or in France. It was only at the 
expiration of that period, when he had attained an 
age at which the character of a man is considered to 
be tolerably matured, that he became an inhabitant 
of England, and had any opportunity of being sub- 



238 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

jected to the influence of English national character- 
istics ; for the Englishmen with whom he associated 
during his residence abroad could give him only the 
personal and partial impressions of exiles and con- 
spirators, and his natural adviser, his uncle Jasper 
Tudor, was himself a Welshman, and in a prolonged 
exile was losing any English habits and sympathies 
which he might have once acquired. It is no small 
testimony to Henry's sagacity and superiority to 
circumstances, that, with such an early training, he 
acquired after his accession such a thorough know- 
ledge of English feelings as never to outrage them, 
or to give his subjects the unpleasant impression 
that they were being governed by a foreigner. But 
while the bright and cheerful tone of Henry's 
temperament made him peculiarly accessible to men 
of every grade and of every degree of intelligence 
and capacity, the character of his intellect was such 
as to guard him against forming hasty impressions 
either of men or manners, and to prevent his 
falling under the slavery of early and daily associa- 
tions, while it left to him all the advantages that 
might arise from viewing the scene of his future 
labours from a distance, and with the independent 
eye of a foreigner. His nature, indeed, was not an 
emotional one. Bright looks and cheerful manners, 
even when, as in his case, they were genuine symbols 
of character, do not necessarily imply excessive 
warmth of heart or depth of feeling. It would 



HENBY THE SEVENTH. 239 

be probably doing injustice to Henry to call him 
absolutely unfeeling. His disposition, though not 
warm, was generally speaking kindly, and he cer- 
tainly on some occasions displayed strong though 
seldom violent emotion. He has been accused of 
harshness and neglect in the case of his wife, and 
there is no reason to believe that there existed on 
his part any ardent feeling towards one who had 
been forced on him by the political necessities of his 
position. But Mr. Bergenroth, who is no friendly 
critic of Henry, declares that he has met with no 
instance of harshness or ill-treatment on his part 
towards the Queen. 6 On all public occasions,' he 
says, ' he showed her much consideration. Some- 
times even scenes occur which prove that they were 
not wanting in cordiality towards one another. The 
impression that Queen Elizabeth made upon the 
Prior of Santa Cruz was that she was the most noble 
woman in England. He thought that she suffered 
under great oppression, and led a miserable, cheerless 
life. The oppressor, however, was not the King, but 
the Countess of Richmond. . . . Henry/ he con- 
tinues, c was not an unfeeling father. He educated 
his children with great care. The death of Prince 
Arthur was a heavy blow to him.' A contemporary 
account, quoted by Mr. James Gairdner in one of his 
valuable introductions to the publications under the 
authority of the Master of the Polls, describes the 
scene which ensued on the communication of the 



240 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

intelligence to the King by his confessor, and the 
sympathy and reciprocal support under their sorrow 
between the King and Queen there pourtrayed is 
very unequivocal. Mr. Bergenroth notes that, 
during the latter part of his life, Henry c kept Prince 
Henry constantly with him. Though he might 
have had political reasons for doing so, merely to 
prevent any communications taking place between 
him and the Spanish party, there is no doubt that 
he was also actuated by another and nobler motive, 
the wish to form the character and sharpen the 
intelligence of his son.' Nor was Henry's severity 
towards the Princess Catharine after Arthur's death 
(according to a Spanish ambassador who was un- 
friendly to the King) greater, but less than she 
deserved by her conduct. There can, however, be 
no doubt that the tendency of Henry's temperament 
was towards coldness, and the position in which he 
was placed would naturally increase any such dis- 
position. Prom his boyhood he had led a life of 
danger and distrust. The Prince who for his own 
purposes kept him to-day at his Court, might for 
those purposes deliver him to-morrow into the hands 
of his enemy. The exiles with whom he associated 
might at any moment make their peace at home by 
betraying his confidence, if not his person. Prom 
the first he was involved in a mesh of political 
machinations, and was compelled to regulate every 
tone and act, and every thought, more or less by 



HENRY THE SEVENTH. 241^ 

political considerations. That he should be able to. 
preserve vivacity and cheerfulness under such cir- 
cumstances is sufficiently astonishing ; and it would 
be asking too much from a disposition naturally 
placid that it should in such a case ripen into frank- 
ness and generosity. 

However little such a temperament may be satis- 
factory in itself, there can be no doubt that it 
harmonised only too well with that diplomatic tone 
of the Age, of which I have already spoken. Henry 
was not only born into, but seemed born especially 
for, such an epoch in society ; and while his cha- 
racter was by no means improved in a moral point 
of view by his contact with European diplomacy, 
in respect of intellectual ability as distinguished 
from moral dignity, there are few instances of a 
career more remarkable, or, on the whole, more 
successful. In Ferdinand of Aragon he had no 
contemptible antagonist, indeed one of those master 
spirits, to contend on at all equal terms with whom 
is no mean achievement. And Henry had to con- 
duct this contest at great disadvantage. Ferdinand's 
great rival was France, which under the recent rule 
of Louis the Eleventh had threatened to absorb all 
its neighbours. Against this power he had looked 
for aid chiefly in an Imperial alliance, but he was 
not unwilling to employ the co-operation of England, 
though along with the other Princes of Europe he 
had fallen into the error of undervaluing its power and. 

R 



242 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

resources since the loss of its French provinces and its 
continual civil distractions. To Henry the alliance 
of Spain was very important, both in a personal and 
a national point of view. If he could cement that 
alliance by a marriage, he would be thus introduced 
at once into the greatest Marriage-group in Europe, 
and consequently obtain a position abroad which 
would react on his precarious position at home, and 
give it the stamp of assured legitimacy. At the 
same time, it would enable him to keep the power of 
France in check without having recourse himself to 
a war with that country, which he greatly desired to 
avoid. The English crave for revenge on France for 
the disastrous wars of the reign of Henry the Sixth 
had been revived by the encroaching policy of Louis, 
and it had become dangerous for any new posses- 
sor of the Crown to meet this feeling with a direct 
negative. Yet Henry felt that peace was essential 
for England at this moment, in order to afford time 
for the recruiting of her wasted resources, and the 
subsidence of the violent and anarchic feelings which 
had been created by a long continuance of civil war. 
He dreaded on his own account the effect which any 
appeal to the old feudal array would have in in- 
creasing the already too great power of the large 
landowners ; and, like his ancestor, Henry of Anjou, 
he looked upon brute force as the last instrument of 
policy to be resorted to, and as a very uncertain and 
coarse weapon. The tendency of a state of warfare, 



HEKRY THE SEVENTH. 243' 

also, is to suspend or supersede the operation of 
regular law, — and law was with Henry (as with 
Edward the First) the favourite engine of policy, 
whether for right or wrong. If, then, he could 
play off Ferdinand against Charles of France, and 
Charles against Ferdinand, and yet keep from 
going to war himself with either, he would obtain 
for England a position which would conciliate public 
opinion at home, and create respect abroad. And 
in this, in the main, he succeeded. Ferdinand 
made him, during this contest of skill, endure not a 
few humiliations, to an unwise extent, indeed, for his 
own interests ; but Henry avoided war almost en- 
tirely, and when once he was forced by Ferdinand 
into hostilities with France, he managed to escape 
almost immediately from this imbroglio in a manner 
which left him unassailable on the point of treaty 
obligations. The estimation in which he was held 
abroad is strongly attested by an Italian envoy.* 
Like other great diplomatists, he sometimes, indeed, 
over-finessed, and towards the close of his life 
Ferdinand succeeded in lowering to a certain extent 
the great position which he had acquired for Eng- 
land ; but it was the accident of the death of the Arch- 
duke Philip, on whom Henry had relied as his chief 
card against the King of Aragon, and the declining 
health and premature death of Henry himself, rather 
than any inferior sagacity in general policy, which 
gave an appearance of disadvantage to the latter* 

B 2 



244 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

For though, pacific in his methods, as far as the 
action of this country was concerned, and unaggres- 
sive in his policy, Henry was by no means without 
pride and ambition for himself and the nation. His 
habit, indeed, of patient endurance, and of regarding 
everything in its ultimate rather than its proximate 
consequences, which must have been partly consti- 
tutional, partly induced by the circumstances of his 
early life, rendered him insensible to transient per- 
sonal humiliations, and capable of meanness in the 
prosecution of his ulterior ends, which seems almost 
incompatible with any sense of personal or royal 
dignity, and inconsistent with the possession of an 
elevated or even a royal mind. But the face seems 
to be that with him, as with another of the Tudor 
Princes, 1 the intermediate steps were so subordinated 
in his mind to the end, that he dwelt only on the 
latter as a gauge of intellectual and moral character, 
and felt no sense of degradation in temporary rebuffs 
and humiliations, so long as the result placed him on 
a vantage-ground ; and his great and elevated gene- 
ral policy seemed to draw away and absorb in itself 
that noble generosity which is usually to be sought 
for in personal and special relations. 

Closely connected with this peculiar temperament 
were the parsimony and avarice which are usually 
considered among the greatest blots in the Kingly 
character of Henry the Seventh. No doubt, the habit 

1 Viz. Elizabeth. 



HENEY THE SEVENTH. 245 

began with, the necessities of his early position ; but 
it was fostered by the patient calculation and self- 
restraint natural to his character. He had learnt 
that money was power, and he possessed for a long 
time so few other instruments of power, that it is not 
wonderful if he clung to this as the principal staff of 
his political existence. Through money he could 
secure or become independent of false or doubtful 
friends, as well as countermine open enemies. Money 
was an instrument of corruption, but was true, at any 
rate, to its possessor, if he only knew how to use it. 
For some time it was through money alone that he 
could hope to place himself on a level with the 
powerful princes of the Continent, — rich in vast 
possessions and in many subjects, but generally very 
straitened in pecuniary means. And by the accumu- 
lation of money in his own hands, he could become 
comparatively independent alike of the feudal parlia- 
ment and of the privileged corporations. Money he 
must have, and money he managed to obtain and to 
accumulate by just and by unjust means. He pro- 
cured what he could through the medium of Parlia- 
ment, as the most regular, legal, and therefore, in his 
point of view, safest mode. But when the Northern 
and Western insurrections warned him that even a 
constitutional tax might be unbearable to the mass 
of the population, he sought the aid of nominally vo- 
luntary but really forced henevolences from wealthy, 
individuals, who thus became less dangerous from. 



246 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

their diminished wealth, as they increased his own 
money-power. But he guarded even this quasi-resort 
to irregular means by obtaining from a subsequent 
Parliament the very dangerous precedent of a legis- 
lative enforcement of the so-called voluntary promises 
of contribution. By his inquisitions into titles and 
escheats to the Crown, and his heavy fines on great 
offenders against statutes which licence and circum- 
stances had rendered a dead letter in their class, he 
added to the weight of his money-bags, and broke 
down still more the aristocratic predominance. e My 
lord, ' he said to the Earl of Oxford, who had enter- 
tained him at his seat with an ostentatious and 
illegal display of military retainers, * I must not suffer 
my laws to be broken in my presence ; my Attorney- 
General must speak to you about this;' and the 
result was a fine of 15,000 marks. One of the 
chroniclers tells us, ' He did use his rigour only, as 
he said himself, to bring low and abate the high 
stomachs of the wild people, nourished and brought 
up in seditious factions and civil rebellions, and not 
for the greedy desire of riches or hunger of money ; ' 
and though it is impossible to acquit Henry of the 
latter propensity, it is quite certain it was the over- 
growth of a much wiser and nobler policy. But 
although a hoarder, Henry could spend freely when 
he thought his dignity or the occasion demanded it, 
and nothing could be more stately or magnificent 
than the Court pageants and ceremonials in which 



HENKY THE SEVENTH. 247 

he sought to present before the eyes of his subjects 
the greatness of the Royal position. 

Henry was in general, from temperament more 
than humanity, averse to blood- shedding, and though 
he was as unscrupulous as Richard himself, in such 
respects, when he deliberately thought that policy 
demanded it, he generally preferred having recourse 
to pecuniary fines, and thus he made the very insur- 
rections and conspiracies against him not only pay 
for their suppression, but become actual sources of 
revenue. These latter fines fell on the classes next 
below the aristocracy, and tamed the spirit of the 
upper middle-classes as effectually as his other policy 
did that of the great aristocracy. But with all this 
machinery of repression and amercement — -just or 
unjust — there grew up a sense of general superintend- 
ence and protection for all classes indifferently, which 
gradually made a great impression on the spirit of 
the Nation. Even injustice assumed the form of Law, 
— and in the great majority of cases, where the 
machinery employed was unjust, though formally 
legal, the sufferers were known to be guilty of great 
offences against law and justice, if not in this, in 
other instances ; and public opinion rather exulted 
in the strong hand of the law having reached them 
at last, than sympathised in the unfairness with 
which they were treated. Law in name, at least, 
and Order in substance became once more paramount 
in England, and it was felt that to offend against 



'248 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

either would bring down the certain vengeance of 
the Executive authority. Everything was systematic, 
and the very cheerful placidity of the King's coun- 
tenance seemed an index of calm and tranquilising 
providence. Content with creating the feeling that 
he was inexorable against transgressors of his laws, 
Henry often softened the hardness of the punishment 
in individual cases by subsequent gifts and prefer- 
ments ; and in all probability, in the great outcry 
against Empson and Dudley after his death which 
'destroyed them, we find rather an echo of the feelings 
of the upper classes than of the nation at large. 
Henry was really his own Minister, and the only man 
whom he seems to have admitted to his confidence, 
was an ambassador of Ferdinand and Isabella, De 
Puebla, of whose services he could thus avail himself 
without rousing the jealousy of his English subjects. 
For it is to the credit of Henry's sagacity, that 
without participating in the prejudices of the nation, 
he built his government and his policy alike on a 
national rather than a personal basis, while he 
gradually modified the national sentiment itself, and 
educated his people into habits and feelings more 
consistent with the advancing civilisation of the 
age. 

Towards the close of his life, of fifty-three years, 
he seems to have lost to a great extent the cheer- 
fulness and equableness of his temper, and to have 
exhibited much of the devout asceticism of his 



HENRY THE SEVENTH. 249 

mother; but the hand of Death was then already 
laid upon him, and mind and body were alike giving 
way. 

As men, there is probably little to choose between 
Eichard the Third and Henry the Seventh in point 
of morality. If Richard destroyed, or intended to 
destroy, his nephews, Henry (we can scarcely doubt) 
murdered the young Earl of Warwick under the 
forms of law, in order to satisfy the demands of 
Ferdinand of Aragon for greater security in the 
throne with which he was about to ally himself by 
marriage. Perkin Warbeck — whether he was an 
impostor or the real Duke of York — would, it seems, 
never have suffered death but for the significant 
silence which Ferdinand preserved on an appeal from 
Henry as to what should be his fate ; but he ivas 
executed, after an escape which seems to have been 
contrived by the King himself, for the purpose of 
supplying a new motive for the severity. If Henry 
did not commit all the acts of violence which are 
attributed to Eichard, his hand was stayed by policy 
and temperament, rather than by principle. Neither 
was naturally cruel or bloodthirsty, but neither had 
much moral scruple when passion or policy seemed 
to incite to a crime. Henry was by far the cleverer 
and probably much the more frequent dissembler. 
Eeserve and early circumstances had made him such. 
But Henry gave to even his crimes the colour and 
form of law, while Eichard gave to even his justifiable 



250 ESTIMATES ©E THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

acts the appearance of irregularity and violence. 
Between them as Kings there can be no comparison. 
Eichard was one of the most unsatisfactory, and 
Henry one of the most skilful and far-sighted of 
our rulers. Eichard reduced the Government and 
the Nation to the proportions of parties in a personal 
quarrel; Henry substituted for personal pretensions 
and a protracted civil crisis a national sentiment, a 
renovated people, and an assured state of tranquility. 
Eichard lost his crown and his life in a vain attempt 
to stem a feudal anarchy ; Henry laid the foundations 
of the modern state of English society. 



251 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

No English King has experienced greater vicissi- 
tudes in popular reputation than Henry the Eighth. 
Idolised during a large part of his reign, and retaining 
to its close a considerable share of popularity with 
the mass of the population, the character thus be- 
queathed remained almost a sacred article of faith 
with the next generation. Under the Stuarts, how- 
ever, it became fashionable to disparage the Tudors 
and their policy, and the memory of Henry, as the 
supposed embodiment of the Tudor characteristics, 
became an especial object of hostility. Still the 
national tradition did not entirely succumb to this new 
Court theory, and the misconduct and miscarriage of 
the Stuart Princes produced a revulsion in feeling 
which found vent in such expressions as that of 
Andrew Marvell : 

Ah, Tudor ! ah, Tudor! of Stuarts enough. 

It was only after the fear of a second Stuart restor- 
ation had completely subsided, and when Jacobitism 
from a political and religious creed became a senti- 



252 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

mental romance of the drawing-room, that the dis- 
paragement of the Tudors again became fashionable, 
and that the character of Henry the Eighth especially 
became a subject of unrestrained obloquy. Elizabeth 
alone escaped for a time from the effects of this re- 
action, in consequence of the glories attaching to the 
memory of the overthrow of the Spanish Armada, 
and the attractive idea of a magnanimous maiden 
Queen. But ' the Eoyal Bluebeard ' met with small 
mercy, and all the romance of his reign attached 
itself to the memories of Catharine of Aragon or 
Anne Boleyn, each of whom had a band of enthu- 
siastic admirers and sympathisers, who were united 
only on the common ground of abusing the man who 
divorced the one and sent the other to the scaffold. 
Mr. Sharon Turner was the first to stem this tide of 
popular obloquy, and to endeavour to revive the 
fading tradition of ' Bluff King Hal ; ' but it was re- 
served for an abler writer to force the question on 
public attention, and to divide thoughtful opinion 
somewhat more evenly as to Henry's real character. 
Mr. Froude has, perhaps, injured to some extent the 
cause for which he pleads by too unqualified an advo- 
cacy, and by a theory which is too artificial to meet 
the misgivings of broad common sense and of in- 
stinctive morality, and the majority of Englishmen 
will probably rest with greater satisfaction in the 
more sober and modified conclusions of Mr. Brewer ; 
but it would be doing great injustice to Mr. Froude to 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 253 

deny to him the merit of having by confronting 
modern opinion with earlier and contemporary judg- 
ments, by an appeal to facts against prejudiced and 
modern perversions of facts, and by his pdwer of 
literary exposition swept away a mass of misleading 
errors, and cleared the ground for the reception of a 
more faithful portraiture of his hero-king. 

The basis of the character of Henry the Eighth is 
his physical constitution, and in no sovereign is a 
personal description more essential to a proper under- 
standing of the man himself. Fortunately, we are 
not without the materials for such a portrait, as the 
Venetian Envoys at the English Court have in their 
communications to their own Government drawn 
more than one sketch of his personal appearance in 
the earlier part of his reign. 'His Majesty,' says 
Giustinian, ' is twenty-nine years old, and extremely 
handsome. Nature could not have done more for him. 
He is much handsomer than any other sovereign in 
Christendom, a great deal handsomer than the King 
of France ; very fair, and his whole frame admirably 
proportioned. On hearing that Francis the First 
wore a beard, he allowed his own to grow ; and as it 
is reddish, he has now got a beard that looks like 
gold. He is very accomplished; a good musician; 
composes well ; is a most capital horseman ; a fine 
jouster ; speaks good French, Latin, and Spanish ; 
is very religious ; hears three masses daily when he 
hunts, and sometimes five on other days. He hears 



254 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the Office every day in the Queen's chamber, that is 
to say, vespers and compline. He is very fond of 
hunting, and never takes his diversion without tiring 
eight or ten horses, which he causes to be stationed 
beforehand along the line of country he means to 
take ; and when one is tired he mounts another, and 
before he goes home they are all exhausted. He is 
extremely fond of tennis, at which game it is the 
prettiest thing in the world to see him play, his fair 
skin glowing through a shirt of the finest texture.' 
Another Venetian reports in 1515, 'His Majesty is 
the handsomest potentate I ever set eyes on ; above 
the usual height ; with an extremely fine calf to his 
leg ; his complexion very fair and bright, with 
auburn hair combed straight and short in the French 
fashion ; and a round face, so very beautiful, that it 
would become a pretty woman, his throat being 
rather long and thick.' He appears from other ac- 
counts to have been passionately fond of music, and 
to have played on the lute, organ, and harpsichord. 
Sagudino, secretary to Giustinian, writes in 1517 
that he ' remained ten days at Eichmond with the 
Ambassador, and in the evening they enjoyed hearing 
the King play and sing, and seeing him dance and 
run at the ring by day, in all which exercises he 
acquitted himself divinely.' He drew a better bow 
than any of his archers, and (allowing for courtly 
deference to his person) was an adept in the tilt-yard. 
Sagudino describes a joust at which he was present, 



HENKY THE EIGHTH. 255 

in which the King took part, there being ten knights 
on each side, very well mounted,* and the horses being 
all richly caparisoned and several in cloth of gold* 
'Then they began to jonst, and continued this sport 
for three hours, to the constant sound of trumpets 
and drums, the King excelling all the others, shiver- 
ing many lances, and unhorsing one of his opponents.' 
In another passage of the ambassadorial despatches 
we find a vivid description of the magnificent dress 
of the English king, when Henry was in the prime 
of his life and the height of his prosperity, and when 
everything seemed bright and joyous with King and 
People. ' After passing the ranks of the bodyguard, 
which consisted of 800 halberdiers, with silver breast- 
plates, who were all as big as giants, the Ambassador 
and his followers were brought to the King. They 
found him standing under a canopy of cloth of gold, 
leaning against his gilt throne, on which lay a gold 
brocade cushion, with the gold sword of State. " He 
wore a cap of crimson velvet in the French fashion, 
and the brim was looped up all round with lacets 
and gold- enamelled tags. His doublet was in the 
Swiss fashion, striped alternately with white and 
crimson satin, and his hose were scarlet, and all slashed 
from the knee upwards; Very close round his neck 
he had a gold collar, from which there hung a rough- 
cut diamond, the size of the largest walnut I ever 
saw, and to this was suspended a most beautiful 
and very large round pearl. His mantle was of 



256 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

purple velvet, lined with, white satin, the sleeves 
open, with, a train more than four Venetian yards 
long. This mantle was girt in front like a gown, 
with, a thick gold cord, from which there hung large 
golden acorns like those suspended from a cardinal's 
hat; over this mantle was a very handsome gold 
collar, with a pendant of St. George entirely of dia- 
monds. Beneath the mantle he wore a frock of cloth 
of gold, which carried a dagger, and his fingers were 
one mass of jewelled rings." ' 

Such was Henry the Eighth as he appeared to the 
eyes of intelligent and observant foreigners, and such, 
no doubt, was the general impression of him on 
which the estimate of his character prevalent during 
the whole Tudor period was based, and which even 
the fierce religious controversies and revolutions of 
those days failed to alter materially. Whatever may 
have been the changes which time wrought in the 
man, we shall be tolerably safe in taking this picture 
as the foundation of an estimate of him, for, as I have 
already hinted, it is only through a knowledge of his 
physical nature that we can hope to arrive at any 
just conception of his intellectual and moral qualities. 
The basis of the character of Henry is his powerful 
and healthy physique. From this sprang his vigour 
of mind ; from this to a great extent was drawn his 
moral nature, and by a reference to this his excel- 
lences and deficiencies, both mental and moral, can 
be best explained. With Henry the Seventh the case 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 257 

had been different ; the basis of character was intel- 
lectual, and the frail bodily constitution only modi- 
fied and hampered a powerful intellectual organisation. 
But the younger Henry felt, thought, and acted as a 
strong and healthy, a consciously strong and healthy, 
and, therefore, a self-confident and self-reliant, man 
would naturally do. He had the magnanimity as 
well as the pride, the self-respect as well as the vanity 
and ostentation, of a magnificent bodily organisation. 
His acts and thoughts, both good and evil, seemed 
to possess a certain robustness, and his intellectual 
and moral perceptions to have something physical and 
bodily in their composition. The weaker and thinner 
fibres of human nature seemed to be strengthened 
and widened in him by this physical intermixture, 
while the firmer and broader were coarsened. Thus, 
while his character escaped from the smallnesses and 
mistrust of a feebler organisation, it failed in deli- 
cacy and considerateness. In the youth and prime 
of his life, when health was strong and every wish 
appeared to be within his reach, the higher and 
nobler features of such a character predominated, and 
his truly royal presence represented a truly kingly 
character. Hardly any one who has read the pre- 
ceding accounts of his personal appearance can fail 
to recognise a strong family resemblance in the 
general portrait to his grandfather, Edward the 
Fourth. There are the same personal vanity and 
love of display, redeemed from trivial foppery by 

s 



258 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

dignity of carriage and the stateliness of a repre- 
sentative character as head of the State. There was 
also in Henry much of the sociable disposition, and 
preference for popular tastes and for miscellaneous 
intercourse with all classes, which made Edward so 
attractive personally to the middle-classes of England. 
But the temperament of Henry was not indolent, 
like that of his grandfather, and the more habitual 
activity and impetuosity of his spirit gave his man- 
ners a more boisterous and bluff character in his 
familiar relations than was consistent with the gay 
courtliness of Edward. From the same cause he was 
more frank and generous in his disposition than the 
latter ; but far less consistent and much more inter- 
mittent in his governing impulses. Between them, 
indeed, in this respect, there was almost the difference 
between a mature man and a precocious boy. Henry 
grew up in body and mind with a premature rapidity 
which seemed to make him at eighteen what most 
men would have been at five-and-twenty. But his 
mind and his character never ripened much beyond 
the point thus attained, and his actions have all the 
discontinuousness and all the wilfulness of youth. 
When his mind and body at last underwent a change, 
it was not towards greater development, but to decay. 
Henry the Seventh was the child of adversity. Cir- 
cumstances had made him prematurely old in thought- 
fulness, but circumstances also kept his mind in a 
Constant state of painful discipline, under which it 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 259 

was ever receiving new lessons of experience, and 
developing more and more under the changing con- 
ditions of a life of great vicissitudes. But his son 
was the child of fortune, born in the purple, and the 
inheritor of a great legacy of wealth and power and 
national prosperity, the result of the long and anxious 
labours which had brought the elder Henry to a 
premature grave. The greater abandon and higher 
spirits of Henry the Eighth sprang nearly as much 
from the more fortunate surroundings of his early 
life as from his healthy bodily frame. "When the in- 
creasing infirmities of a naturally bad constitution 
affected the mind of the elder Henry, his calm bright- 
ness sank into melancholy brooding. When the 
strong physical constitution of Henry the Eighth 
gave way, and disease and bodily incapacity super- 
seded the health and activity of his prime, his manli- 
ness degenerated into grossness, his self-confidence 
and self-will into tyranny, and his boisterous tem- 
perament towards brutality ; and this personal de- 
generation had a more serious result in the case of 
the son than in that of the father. With Henry the 
Seventh the State was a separate entity, to which he 
stood in the relation of a wise and patient Mentor. 
But his son identified the State with himself so com- 
pletely, that the Constitution and the national welfare 
fluctuated or retrograded with every changing mood 
and vicissitude of the King himself. This was at 
once the strength and the weakness of England during 

s 2 



260 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS, 

his reign. The nation alternately gained and suf- 
fered from the alternations in the passions of its head. 
While the proud sense of personal dignity of the 
Tudor King saved it from national degradation, and 
its complete identification in his own mind with 
himself gave a certain representative and national 
character to his most personal acts, the national 
policy and the national interests in their turn suffered 
by being too often narrowed to personal issues. As 
long as Wolsey lived and stood at the right hand of 
Henry as his confidential and trusted adviser, the 
evils of this too personal government were to a great 
degree moderated. Henry, indeed, never allowed any 
administrative act to be carried into execution unless 
it had received the sanction of his personal attention; 
but he willingly listened to Wolsey's advice. He did 
so because that Minister, however great intellectually, 
was a man from whom he had not to apprehend any 
pretensions to an independent and rival position. 
The great nobles complained that they were excluded 
from all posts of real trust, and relegated to mere 
ceremonial offices, while the Government was left in 
the hands of men of inferior extraction. It was not 
ability, but hereditary rank and independent autho- 
rity that the Tudors were jealous of and distrusted. 
They sought for talent, graciously acknowledged its 
value, and employed it fearlessly so long as it re- 
mained a constituent part of their own personal ad- 
ministration. But they could not tolerate independent 



HENEY THE EIGHTH. 261 

magnificence even in an intellectually contemptible 
Buckingham, and they struck at it fiercely and re- 
morselessly. There might be as many channels of 
authority as the Constitution or the nation demanded, 
but there must be only one independent head of 
authority, and the eyes of the nation must be drawn 
off to no other centre of attraction. During the first 
part of Henry the Eighth's reign this co-ordination 
of King and Minister in one great personal policy 
was possible, for at home there was only a stately 
magnificence, and a personal action operating almost 
entirely through the legal channels of the Constitu- 
tion, though practically autocratic, and abroad the 
cautious and subtle, yet bold policy of Wolsey supple- 
mented and harmonised well with the strong will and 
sensible instincts of the King. But when diplomacy 
became secondary to a great Religious Revolution, 
and when the natural position and traditional in- 
stincts of the Minister became incompatible with the 
intense personal will of the King, a divergence of in- 
terests seemed to convert a trusted counsellor into a 
rival and antagonist, and Wolsey fell in order that 
the Government might have in the eyes of the world 
but one presiding will. He thus lost the confidence, 
but scarcely the sympathy of the Sovereign, with 
whom he had planned and acted so long, so ably, 
and so faithfully. But the confidence which Henry 
withdrew from Wolsey he never again bestowed on 
any minister,, Cromwell or Gardiner might seem to 



262 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

stand highest in his favour, but thenceforward the 
policy was that of Henry alone, and with its intensi- 
fied personality came a long train of attendant mis- 
fortunes. From this time the remark of Mr. Brewer 
holds good, that the only restraints on the autocracy 
of Henry were his own sense of right, and his dread 
of unpopularity. 

The sense of right was probably much stronger 
naturally in Henry the Eighth than in his father, but 
in the case of the latter it was not so much a sepa- 
rate standard, to which each act might or might not 
be referred, as a constituent part of the whole mental 
system, operating almost unconsciously to moderate 
and gradually direct his general policy. In Henry 
the Eighth, when operative at all, it was very dis- 
tinctly effective in its action, while in other cases its 
operation seemed to be suspended entirely, as if it 
had no existence. For although the younger Henry 
had been educated carefully in almost every depart- 
ment of mind and body, his mind had not been edu- 
cated as a whole, and while the constituent parts 
were admirable, the directing power was often very 
defective. Thus it was that whim and personal will 
too often, especially in the latter part of his reign, 
took the place of any rule of life, and principle seemed 
at the mercy of transient impressions and successive 
passions. For though Henry had a great deal of 
conscientiousness, he had no fixed and permanent 
law of conscience. After the downfall of Wolsey, 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 263 

the rule by which he regulated his conduct towards 
individuals seemed as fitful as it was purely arbitrary. 
One gust of feeling raised Cromwell to power, another 
destroyed him; one carried him towards the Ee- 
formers, another towards the old Catholic party. 
The very persistence with which he pursued his idea 
of a divorce from Catharine of Aragon was not ani- 
mated so much by any passion for Anne Boleyn, as 
by the necessity of obeying and realising an idea 
which had gained the ascendant with him. His sen- 
sual passions were comparatively cold, while the fire 
of his will was fierce, and unquenchable even by his 
own better instincts. The absence of a matured and 
thoroughly disciplined mind produced similar effects 
in all his marriage affairs, and gave an appearance of 
inordinate and reckless passion and cruelty to what 
was really little else than a spasmodic attempt on 
the part of a strong will to escape from the conse- 
quences of its own unwise acts. Of all his wives, not 
one can be said to attain to the character of a 
really superior woman. None, therefore, had any 
chance of preserving an ascendancy over him in the 
revulsion of his feelings. He was guided in his 
choice by special qualities, and he was constantly 
disappointed in the whole nature of the woman, until 
at last he was forced to content himself with decorous 
mediocrity. Of the more delicate and retiring traits 
of a nobler character his own coarsely-fibred nature 
could form no apprehension. But with masses of 



264 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

men of whom he himself was the recognised organic 
head, the case was different. Here his personal pride 
identified their appreciation of him with his own 
self-esteem, and he sought to be popular not only 
because he felt that popularity was his strongest 
engine of power, but because he sympathised so 
strongly with his subjects in their relation to him as 
a popular King. Unlike the Stuarts, who succeeded 
on the English throne, the Tudor Prince loved his 
people as such, and as love begets love, retained to 
the very last the affections of the mass of the nation. 
The pride of Henry was one which was roused by 
rivalry alone ; it fed on the humiliation of the great 
and powerful only, and with all others, the bluff 
jovialty of his temperament displayed itself in the 
most attractive form. This familiarity in personal 
relations extended to petitioners, whose complaints 
or requests, instead of being staved off by a host of 
intervening ministers and secretaries, found access 
to the eye and ear of the King himself, and who 
availed themselves of this well-known fact to address 
him in a manner which looks very odd in a formal 
State document. Thus, among the Warrants to the 
Treasurer of the Chamber, signed by the King, we 
find one in favour of William Wynesbury, his Lord 
of Misrule, directing the treasurer to pay him hi. 
But annexed to this is a note from the petitioner to 
the following effect : — ' If it shall like your Grace to 
give me too much, I will give you none again ; and 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 265 

if your Grace give me too little, I will ask more.' 
But the King thus familiarly addressed by one of 
mean condition was the same prince with whom the 
head of no great man in his kingdom was safe on his 
shoulders during the latter part of his reign. With 
the Nation, in fact, the case stood thus. The People 
had the right and the means of resistance to his will, 
but they scarcely ever resisted or wished to do so, till 
at last, if they had wished, fchey had lost the courage 
to act. The King had practically the power to be a 
tyrant, but with the nation at large he preferred 
being an idolised autocrat. 

We have reserved to the last the consideration of 
those features of the King's character which were 
involved in his great controversy with Eome. At 
the bottom, no doubt, it was a question of personal 
will and royal dignity, but there also entered into it 
the element of Henry's own taste for casuistry and 
theology. This was the result of a special education 
acting on a nature both inquisitive and devout. The 
devotional tastes of Margaret Beaufort seemed 
blended with the hair-splitting distinctions of a 
middle-age schoolman, perhaps derived from his 
long lineage of crafty British chieftains. It was 
subtlety of thought without refinement of perception • 
implying a peculiarity in the method of thinking 
rather than in the thought itself. The capacity for 
cultivation, which was inherent in every part of 
Henry's nature, made of him in this case a theological 



266 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

pedant and an eager controversialist, while his intense 
force of character made him a self-sufficient and 
intolerant bigot. He took a distinction like a well- 
trained ecclesiastical logician, and he enforced it 
with a disregard of all opposing logic engendered by 
the force of his predominating animal spirits. As 
long as the Pope seemed a co-ordinate authority, in 
a separate sphere, it flattered Henry's vanity that he 
should stand side by side with the ' Most Catholic ' 
and c Most Christian ' Kings as the * Defender of 
the Faith.' But the tendency of spiritual as well as of 
every other authority in England had for some time 
been to merge itself in the civil power, and as Henry 
absorbed more and more in himself the functions 
of the whole State, the supreme spiritual authority 
became almost insensibly vested in him, and at last a 
desire to act on the dictates of his own will in a 
particular case revealed to him the fact that the Pope 
was a rival and controlling authority in his own 
domain, instead of a useful orthodox piece of spiritual 
machinery in an outlying province. He tried to 
make the machine work according to his will, and 
when that failed he resolutely threw it aside, acted 
for himself, and became himself the Supreme Head 
of the Church. On the question of the Divorce, the 
rationale of his conduct probably was that the 
scruples as to his marriage with Catharine were kept 
alive by Henry the Seventh for ulterior political 
purposes, and were overridden by the impetuous will of 



HENEY THE EIGHTH. 267 

his son, to be again revived by a desire to accomplish 
an act which State policy seemed to demand, but 
which to his fitful sense of right appeared to require 
the additional sanction of a higher moral reason. 

The same curious combination of qualities in one 
man seems to solve the question as to Henry's 
sincerity of character. In accordance with his 
predominant feature, he was naturally and more 
generally frank and truthful ; but on certain occasions, 
when his Tudor vein of casuistry seemed to be evoked, 
he displayed an amount of dissimulation and double- 
dealing which proved that he could be to the full as 
unscrupulous in this respect as his politic father, 
though the quality of the dissimulation was somewhat 
grosser, and probably less effective. 

It is extremely difficult to give a just estimate of 
the capacity of Henry as a man and a ruler. He was 
certainly very capable in many things, and he gives 
a general impression of ability as a ruler, which goes 
beyond any deductions that we might be able to 
draw from his special acts, and which is possibly 
produced by the force of his autocracy itself, 
independently of any such acts. We may, however, 
perhaps safely say, that he was nobler and better in 
his general intentions than in anything that he 
actually did. We see the wisdom and sagacity of 
the general policy, where we are struck with the ill- 
judged and unnecessary violence of much of the 
means employed to carry it into effect. At the same 



268 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

time it is the iteration of these violent means which 
creates distrust as to the justice of the special act, 
more than the circumstances of each act considered 
in itself. It may be comparatively easy to show- 
some plausible cause in each case for the execution 
of Buckingham, of More, of Fisher, of Cromwell, of 
the descendants of the House of York, and of the 
other victims of supposed political necessity ; but the 
collective effect of such a number of executions is 
fatal to the character of Henry's system of adminis- 
tration. Whatever may have been the excellence of 
the ends proposed, the means chosen must have been 
singularly ill-judged to entail the necessity of such 
continual bloodshedding. His nature was too un- 
disciplined, and too much at the mercy of his self- 
will, and of feelings roused by chance occurrences 
to be a safe agent of his own policy. The wisdom of 
his original ideas was too often perverted or lost in 
the very act of carrying them out. The breach with 
Scotland, in the autumn of 1542, when he wasted 
with fire and sword for nine days a country which it 
had been his studied policy for years to unite with 
England in future years, under one govern- 
ment, is a striking illustration of this want of 
statesmanlike foresight in his actions. In fact, if 
Henry designed his ends in the spirit of a statesman, 
he too often pursued them in the spirit of one who 
seeks rather than avoids causes of offence and 
opportunities of violence ; and though the national 



HENKY THE EIGHTH. 269 

verdict of those days may have acquitted him of blame 
from a feeling of attachment to his person, and a 
general appreciation of his intentions and his ability, 
modern opinion will probably return a qualified 
answer to the same question ; and, while admitting 
that he was often wise in his counsel, will pronounce 
that he was equally often unwise in act. 



270 



EDWARD THE SIXTH. 

Ant estimate of the character of Edward Tudor is 
attended with two difficulties. We have to pro- 
nounce on a character which a premature death 
prevented from attaining its full development, and 
yet we have also to deal with an abnormal boyhood, 
in which some, at least, of the phases of a more 
advanced period of life were artificially anticipated. 
We have to consider a character, therefore, which is 
neither that of a man nor a boy, but which belongs 
to a boy's mind forced into the appearance of full 
growth. The character of Edward, indeed, whatever 
its constituent elements may have been, was in the 
form in which it presents itself to our notice the 
product of an educational forcing-house, and of a 
process in which flavour and colour were to a great 
extent sacrificed to early and rapid development. 
Henry the Eighth, as I have said, was always to 
some extent a grown-up boy, with a mind never 
thoroughly developed. Edward, on the contrary, 
was never a boy at all, and was called upon to 
exercise functions for which his understanding had 



EDWAED THE SIXTH. 271 

only a factitious appearance of competency. His 
whole life, therefore, was an unreality, and to divine 
the motives of his actions is a task equalled in 
difficulty only by that of pronouncing on their moral 
significance when ascertained. 

The physical constitution of Edward the Sixth 
was ill-fitted to endure the forcing process to which 
he was thus subjected. The circumstances attending 
his birth may have had something to do with this ; 
but it is certain that, without possessing any consti- 
tutional disease, there was a natural weakness, and 
a want of vital power, which would have a material 
influence in modifying any mental characteristics, 
and any family peculiarities which he might have 
inherited from his athletic father. According to 
the Milanese physician Cardano, who visited Eng- 
land in the last year of the reign, and who fancied 
that he saw a look in Edward's face which fore- 
told an early death, though he was far from imagin- 
ing it to be close at hand, the young king in stature 
was below the usual size, his complexion was fair, 
his eyes grey, his gesture and general aspect sedate 
and becoming. The Venetian Ambassador Barbaro 
gives us the popular impression respecting him in 
the year 1551 : — ' He is of good disposition, and 
fills the country with the best expectations, because 
he is handsome, graceful, of proper size, shows an 
inclination to generosity, and begins to wish to 
understand what is going on ; and in the exercise of 



272 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the mind, and in the study of languages, appears to 
excel his companions. He is 14 years of age. This 
is what I am able to state about him.' Edward was 
born on October the 12th, 1537, and succeeded to 
the throne on January the 28th, 1547, when he 
was only nine years of age. He was handsome after 
the type of his mother's beauty, i.e. he had regular 
features and graceful bearing, but was deficient in 
vivacity and expressiveness. He was taken at the 
age of six entirely out of the hands of women, and 
his mind was delivered over to the educational 
direction of some of the most learned scholars of the 
day, while his body was at the same time trained in 
the ordinary athletic exercises and amusements of 
princes and nobles. He exhibited no deficiency, in 
any marked degree at any rate in this latter sphere 
— his physical powers having probably much more 
aptitude than strength. But in the mental school he 
seems, making allowance for all flattering exagger- 
ations, to have manifested considerable intellectual 
power. Acquiring the lighter accomplishments, in 
which none of the Tudors were deficient, his own 
natural tastes seemed to tend to severer and heavier 
studies. His mind, indeed, appears to have been as 
narrow as it was intense, but, in such a mere lad, 
brought up under such exceptional circumstances, it 
is not possible to speak decidedly on this point, as 
altered circumstances might have widened his 
intellectual perceptions. He was called upon from 



EDWAED THE SIXTH. 27B 

the first to pronounce on considerations which it was 
quite impossible that his mind could properly grasp, 
and he, therefore, either became a passive tool in the 
hands of those who had the authority or opportunity 
of dictating his course ; or, if he asserted his inde- 
pendence at all, did so, not by dealing with the main 
issues of the question, but rather by taking exception 
and making a stand on some personal prejudice or 
conscientious scruple. For this reference of every 
question to certain technical standards of right and 
wrong, the character of the studies to which his 
mind had been directed naturally disposed him. His 
education had been a second Cyropcedia, and his time 
had been passed in learning by rote the attributes of 
a perfect prince, and in drawing up small codes of 
morals, and gravely discussing abstract points of 
casuistry. His mind, like his constitution, rather 
stagnant and receptive than originative, found its 
self-assertion, and whatever it retained of the strong 
Tudor personality, in obstinacy and dogged ad- 
herence to supposed principle or tenacity of supposed 
prerogatives, rather than in any manifestations of 
active energy. A curious illustration of his character 
in this respect is to be found in the resistance which 
he offered to the free exercise of her religious rites by 
his sister Mary. For his sisters, as for others whom 
he did not dislike, he had a placid regard, and 
probably was not undesirous to find some valid 
excuse for allowing them freedom of action ; but he 

T 



274 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

had been so carefully imbued with the idea that it 
was sin to allow idolatry in the land, that the Council, 
when the Emperor threatened war unless Mary's 
religion was respected, found it very difficult to 
persuade their royal pupil to acquiesce in their politic 
subterfuges. Dudley, Earl of Warwick, had sug- 
gested a reference of the question to the Bishops, 
Cranmer, Eidley, and Poynet. The Bishops asked, 
' if war was inevitable, if the King should persist ? 
Being told there was no hope of escaping it, they 
begged for a night to consider their answer.' They 
were in the main honest and conscientious men, but 
they were also official Christians, and * on the 
following morning they gave an opinion, as the 
result of their deliberation, that " although to give 
licence to sin was sin, yet if all haste possible was 
observed, to suffer and wink at it for a time might be 
borne."' The King was then called in, and the 
result of the reference to the Bishops submitted to 
him. ' " Are these things so, my Lords ? " said 
Edward, turning to them ; " is it lawful by Scripture 
to sanction idolatry ? " " There were good Kings in 
Scripture, your Majesty," they replied, " who allowed 
the hill altars, and yet were called good." " We 
follow the example of good men," the boy answered, 
" when they have done well. We do not follow them 
in evil. David was good, but David seduced 
Bathsheba and murdered Uriah. We are not to 
imitate David in such deeds as these. Is there no 



EDWAED THE SIXTH. 275 

better Scripture ? " The Bishops could think of none. 
" I am sorry for the realm, then," the King said, " and 
sorry for the danger that will come of it ; I shall hope 
and pray for something better, but the evil thing I 
will not allow." 5 The Council, however, seem to 
have persuaded him to content himself for the present 
with punishing all who attended the Princess's mass 
except herself, and meanwhile delayed a positive 
answer to the Emperor till they had secured an 
alliance with France which enabled them to set him 
at defiance, and renew their persecution of the 
Princess with impunity. 

Whatever may be said of the judiciousness of 
Edward's education in other respects, it is clear that 
nothing had been done to quicken or call forth the 
warmer feelings and sympathies of a nature naturally 
inert and undemonstrative on such points. His 
purely masculine training had taught him to regard 
everything and every relation from the point of duty 
and moral rectitude, all personal considerations 
being sunk in a logical conscientiousness. Por that 
Edward was strictly and even morbidly conscientious, 
we see, among other illustrations, from the scene 
just referred to. He was much attached to his tutors, 
but it was in a characteristically calm and intellectual 
manner. Boys are usually demonstrative of feeling 
on this point at least, but Edward's estimate of his 
tutors is purely intellectual. 'King Edward,' 
Puller tells us, 'used to say of his tutors, that 

T 2 



276 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Bandolph the German spoke honestly, Sir John 
Cheke talked seriously, Dr. Coxe solidly, and Sir 
Anthony Cooke weighingly.' So it was with his 
juvenile associates ; he valued them chiefly on 
account of their mental sympathies with him. In 
the memoirs of one of them, Jane Dormer, afterwards 
Duchess of Eeria, we are told that when a child of 
six or seven, c while playing at cards with her, he 
would say, " Now, Jane, your king is gone, I shall be 
good enough for you," and would call her " my Jane," 
their natural dispositions being so correspondent to 
each other ; ' and this is one of the warmest personal 
demonstrations on his part that I am able to 
discover. Yet Edward's attachments, such as they 
were, seem to have been deep, though calm, and on 
an intellectual basis. When his tutor Cheke was 
very dangerously ill, Fuller tells us the King inquired 
of his condition carefully every day : — c At last his 
physicians told him that there was no hope of his life, 
being given over by them for a dead man. " No," 
said King Edward, " he will not die on this time, for 
this morning I begged his life from God in my 
prayers, and obtained it," which accordingly came to 
pass, and he soon after, against all expectations, 
wonderfully recovered. This was attested by the old 
Earl of Huntingdon, bred up in his childhood with 
King Edward, unto Sir Thomas Cheke, still surviving, 
about 80 years of age.' Was this fanaticism, or 
merely an extreme ease of Tudor self-confidence, that 



EDWAKD THE SIXTH. 277 

God would, of course, attend to a suit in which he 
had interested himself ? For of the family self-con- 
fidence Edward possessed a large share, which was 
necessarily fostered most injuriously by the position 
in which he was placed. Although really a puppet 
in the hands of successive chiefs of his Council, he 
had been made from the first to play the part of an 
intelligent and capable man so constantly, that he 
naturally believed in the reality of the part assigned 
to him. His Journal, consequently, instead of being 
a record of boyish impressions, is a grave statement 
of the conduct of his life and the rationale of the 
Administration. The selfish policy of the men who 
used his name as a cover for their own wishes and 
acts always intruded the young King personally on 
the political scene whenever any important point had 
to be achieved, or any serious opposition had to be 
overcome. He was thus placed in a position of arti- 
ficial self-consequence, which could not but influence 
his character very unpleasantly. 

It was doubtless necessary to be particularly strict 
in enforcing the rules of royal etiquette in the case 
of a boy whose age might otherwise have been taken 
advantage of, but the effects on him of the cere- 
monial described by a foreign envoy could not have 
been good. c No one was permitted to address him, 
not even his sisters, without kneeling to him. " I 
have seen," says Ubaldini, "the Princess Elizabeth 
drop on one knee five times before her brother ere 



278 ESTIMATES'- OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

she took her place." At dinner, if either of his sisters 
were permitted to eat with him, she sat on a stool 
and cushion at a distance beyond the limits of the 
royal dais. Even the lords and gentlemen who 
brought in the dishes before dinner were bareheaded, 
and knelt down before they placed them on the table. 
This custom shocked the French Ambassador and 
suite, for in France the office was confined to pages, 
who bowed only, and did not kneel.' He was made 
the arbiter of the fate of two uncles, and he was 
called upon to lecture a sister much older than him- 
self on the principles of theology, and to dictate to 
her on the rules of her own conscience. Well might 
Mary remark, ' Although her good sweet Xing have 
more knowledge than any other of his years, yet it is 
not possible that he can be judge of these things.' 

The false position in which Edward was thus 
placed, joined to his natural self-confidence, unemo- 
tional temperament, and logical conscientiousness, 
affords probably the key to his strange insensibility 
to the fate of his uncles Lord Seymour and the Duke 
of Somerset. He had been made to enter fully into 
the question of the guilt of the former; his own 
personal evidence even had been produced against 
Seymour. His self-esteem had been thus artfully 
interested in the prosecution, and no doubt he had 
come to a logical conclusion that Seymour was guilty. 
That which would have pleaded with most lads of 
his age in favour of the delinquent — Seymour's secret 



EDWARD THE SIXTH. 279 

supplies of money to Edward for his personal 
gratification — had no weight with such a nature, 
when duly interpreted to him, as no doubt it was, as 
a mere artifice of Seymour's for his own selfish ends. 
Any natural love he might possess was far too weak 
to stand the test of what seemed to him alike a 
logical consequence and a duty, and he sent Seymour 
to the block with as little emotion probably as he 
would have bestowed on any other State criminal. 
After this, his conduct towards Somerset himself, 
who had taught his royal nephew thus stoically 
to weigh the conflicting claims of cold policy and of 
natural affection, is not difficult to explain. With 
a far nobler nature than either his brother or his 
nephew (as far as the character of the latter had 
as yet developed itself), the Protector expiated in his 
own person the offence against nature which he had 
committed in dipping a boy's hands in the blood of 
a relative. But the mischief did not end here. A 
really well-disposed and conscientious nature had, 
through an unfair advantage taken of a peculiarity 
of temperament, been introduced at a most im- 
pressionable age to a school of politics in which his 
father's own character had been ruined, and under 
the dictation of which had he lived much longer, 
he might himself have reproduced that terrible 
history of execution after execution, which only the 
hardest political expediency can in any degree 
palliate, and which right feeling and the highest 



280 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

statesmanship alike condemn. It is not, indeed, just 
to condemn a young Prince for the foreshadowings 
of evil which might never have come to pass, or to 
attribute to a cold instinctive craving for blood, what 
seems chiefly the result of a too passive sensibility 
and a too purely intellectual education. The intellect 
is, no doubt, an important auxiliary in the determin- 
ation of moral questions, but it is quite as open to 
deception as is the heart, and he who relies, as 
Edward did, on the former alone for his rule of 
action, is, at least, entitled to the same excuse which 
we give to the impulsive errors of a warmer 
temperament. Yet the prospect of the possible 
eventualities of Edward's career, had he lived to 
manhood, is not such as to make us regret his early 
death. A strong Tudor intellect might have guided 
his general policy rightly, but it is only too probable 
that by his death England escaped from an epoch of 
cold Augustan terrorism which would have rendered 
a name that is now a subject of sentimental interest, 
odious in the eyes of a more fortunate posterity. 



281 



MARY. 

If popular reputation were to be the sole guide of our 
estimate of a sovereign, Mary Tudor' s character would 
be soon depicted, and in the most uninviting colours. 
The name of no English sovereign has inspired in the 
minds of generations of Englishmen a greater feel- 
ing of horror and aversion. It is only in the present 
age that any attempt to discriminate between a deep 
and deserved censure of several of her public acts, 
and a wholesale condemnation of the woman herself, 
has been at all widely accepted, and that the terrible 
memories of Smithfield have been at all softened by 
any mitigated view of the character and motives of 
the author of those tragedies. Now, however, Pro- 
testant and Catholic opinion seem to be gravitating 
to much the same modified estimate of this unhappy 
Queen, and there is something like a common and 
harmonious recognition of her merits and her faults. 
I cannot introduce Mary better than in the de- 
scription given of her person and characteristics by 
the Venetian Michele, the year before her death. 
'Queen Mary/ he writes, 'the daughter of Henry 



282 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the Eighth and of his Queen Catharine, daughter of 
Ferdinand the Catholic, King of Aragon, is a princess 
of great worth. In her youth she was rendered 
unhappy by the events of her mother's divorce, by 
the ignominy and threats to which she was exposed 
after the change of religion in England — she being 
unwilling to bend to the new one — and by the dangers 
to which she was exposed by the Duke of North- 
umberland, and the riots among the people when she 
ascended the throne. She is of short stature, well 
made, thin and delicate, and moderately pretty ; her 
eyes are so lively that she inspires reverence and 
respect, and even fear, wherever she turns them; 
nevertheless, she is very short-sighted. Her voice is 
deep, almost like that of a man. She understands 
five languages, English, Latin, French, Spanish, and 
Italian, in which last, however, she does not venture 
to discourse. She is also much skilled in ladies' 
work, such as producing all sorts of embroidery with 
the needle. She has a knowledge of music, chiefly 
on the lute, on which shf> plays exceedingly well. 
As to the qualities of her mind, it may be said of her 
that she is rash, disdainful, and parsimonious rather 
than liberal. She is endowed with great humility 
and patience, but withal high-spirited, courageous, 
and resolute, having during the whole course of her 
adversity been guiltless of any the least approach to 
meanness of comportment ; she is, moreover, devout 
and staunch in the defence of her religion. Some 



MAEY. 283 

personal infirmities under which she labours are the 
causes to her of both public and private affliction. 
To remedy these, recourse is had to frequent blood- 
letting, and this is the real cause of her paleness, and 
the general weakness of her frame. The cabals she 
has been exposed to, the evil disposition of the people 
towards her, the present poverty and the debt of the 
Crown, and her passion for King Philip, from whom 
she is doomed to live separate, are so many other 
causes of the grief by which she is overwhelmed. 
She is, moreover, a prey to the hatred she bears to 
my Lady Elizabeth, and which has its source in the 
recollection of the wrongs she experienced on account 
of her mother, and in the fact that all eyes and 
hearts are turned towards my Lady Elizabeth, as 
successor to the throne.' 

Such did Mary seem to a calm observer, who was 
uninfluenced by feelings of either Catholic or Pro- 
testant fanaticism, and though the portrait is not 
quite distinct or consistent on some points, such in 
the main, there can be little doubt, she actually was. 
The general mould of her character was Spanish 
rather than English, though some of the Tudor 
characteristics are still very patent. She had all 
their undaunted courage, all their unconquerable 
persistence, much of their kingly self-respect and 
their feeling of moral responsibility as rulers, and of 
duty towards the Nation, apart from any responsibility 
to class or individual within that Nation. Her 



284 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

natural disposition, so far as we can separate it from 
the attitudes into which she was forced by consider- 
ations of duty to the Church and to God, was milder 
than that of her father, and more accessible to warm 
and sympathetic feelings than that of her brother. 
But in her demeanour she was less graceful than the 
latter, and she had few of the social and popular | 
qualities of the former. Her mind and her manners 
were alike stiff and formal, her courtesy was too ) 
ceremonial to be really engaging, and her dignity of 
bearing, though it might inspire awe and fear, failed 
to excite admiration, while her rigid and morbid 
devoteeism was quite as likely to rouse contempt for 
her intellect as respect for her conscientiousness. 
But whatever unconciliatory rigidity there may have 
been in her original temperament was intensified by 
the peculiar circumstances of her life. Her very 
conscientiousness was in this respect most unfavour- 
able to her in a social point of view. Too honest as 
well as too obstinate to conform to the spirit of the 
age, and only yielding pious obedience to the personal 
commands of her father, Mary shut herself up in her 
own mind, or in a world of her own, excluding all 
sympathies except such as might come recommended 
by community of religious opinions and aspirations ; 
and from these resources even she was almost entirely 
debarred by the anxious bigotry of the triumphant 
creed. All that seemed left to her was the patience 
and endurance of a martyr, and the cultivation of the 



MARY. 285 



! virtues of a religions recluse. Meanwhile a new 
! generation grew up in the world without, of which 
I she knew nothing, and which could less and less 
sympathise with the antiquated form of her stereo- 
j typed ideas. Even the enthusiasm of the avowed 
Catholics of the rising generation was coloured to 
| some extent by the altered tone of the age, and had 
i little really in harmony with the ancient religious 
type in which Mary's mind had been moulded. Still 
Mary waited and watched, more perhaps in despair 
! than in hope, and with anticipations of the glories of 
: the martyr rather than those of the rebuilder of the 
faith. Suddenly a door opened to her in the national 
reaction against the personal ambition of Dudley and 
Grey. The accredited leaders of the Reformation in 
England, in their desperation at the imminent death 
of Edward and the accession of a Roman Catholic 
Queen, had overshot the feelings of the nation, and 
had identified the interests of Protestantism with 
those of a political faction and two or three powerful 
families. The will of Henry the Eighth, in which 
the nation, with its curious disposition to compromise, 
had recognised some atonement for the wrongs of 
Catharine of Aragon and her daughter, was set aside 
by a political manoeuvre, and the nation was called 
upon to assent to Queen Jane Grey as the first article 
of the Protestant creed. This — Catholic and Protes- 
tant alike — it revolted against. A feeling of loyalty to 
the immediate family of Henry the Eighth was blended 



286 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

witli one of compassion for the persecuted daughter 
of Catharine, and a really national movement placed 
Mary on the throne, and gave her the opportunity of 
vindicating her new authority by the manner in 
which she employed it. But while the nation saw 
in her accession merely the defeat of an ambitious 
party, the new Queen saw in it a leading of Provi- 
dence to a royal work of Beligious Restoration. The 
role of a constant martyr seemed to be suddenly 
changed for that of an apostle. Compared with this 
duty, all other considerations became nothing in her 
eyes. Her mind was naturally intense rather than 
wide, and events had narrowed its scope still more. 
She understood nothing of the nation she was about 
to lead again into the true fold, but she had un- 
bounded faith in the will of Providence, and no little 
confidence in herself. By her Tudor decision and 
courage she had ensured the success of the move- 
ment that placed her on the throne; by the same 
courage and decision she maintained herself in the 
dangerous crisis of the Wyat insurrection, when her 
own adherents were on the point of abandoning her. 
Every act of persevering boldness in her course 
seemed crowned with success, and against these signs 
of the will and purpose of God, all counsels of 
prudence from Catholic subjects and princely allies 
availed nothing. The self-will of her father was 
heightened by the zeal of an apostle and the enthu- 
siasm of a prophet. As her obstinacy raised fresh 



MAEY. 287 

dangers around her, and alienated more and more 
the sympathies of her people, so her undaunted per- 
severance seemed to render her almost independent of 
national sympathies and of popular support. The 
English people had welcomed her accession in no 
spirit of national penitence for past religious heresy, 
though it had begun to entertain some distrust and 
alarm at Dudley's ultra-Protestant policy. But Mary 
ordered it to humble itself in abject contrition at the 
feet of an offended but forgiving Sovereign Pontiff, 
and the Nation obeyed. The old alliances of England 
with the Spanish Kingdoms and with Burgundy, 
which once had a considerable hold on the feelings 
of the English middle-class, from considerations of 
commercial advantage, had been discredited in their 
opinion by becoming in the persons of Charles and 
Philip identified with the interests of an aggressive 
Papal ascendancy. Yet when the long unloved and 
unloving Mary, under the influence of a natural pre- 
dilection for her mother's native land, as much, per- 
haps, as of strong Catholic sympathies, fixed her 
mind on a Spanish marriage, the nation, though it 
displayed many signs of dislike and consequent dis- 
affection, did not rouse itself to secure the success of 
an insurrection against the Queen, and the marriage 
took place, and Philip became joint-sovereign of 
England. But this very success proved fatal to Mary's 
own peace of mind, while in its ultimate consequences 
it entailed a terrible addition to the unpopularity of 



288 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

her reign. The Queen's passions, though constrained 
by circumstances and concealed under a cover of 
formal decorum, were intensely strong, and her love 
for Philip became as blindly fanatical as her zeal for 
the Catholic faith. Her unplastic nature was shattered 
by a passion to which it could not quietly assimilate 
itself, and there ensued the unseemly spectacle of a 
careworn middle-aged woman exhibiting the love- 
sick fancies and jealousies of a young girl. Philip, 
who had shrunk with aversion from the marriage, 
afterwards endured it with the proper courtesy of a 
Castilian gentleman; but he only endured it, and 
however the Queen might endeavour to deceive her- 
self, she soon was only too conscious of the fact. 
Then came national disaster and dishonour in the 
train of this unhappy alliance. Her last hold on the 
soil of France was lost to England for ever, and the 
Queen, like a true Tudor, felt the disgrace even more 
than the nation did, for it seemed to her a condem- 
nation also of her own cherished and self-willed policy. 
Her health as well as her spirits gave way more and 
more, and still the hateful spectre of heresy haunted 
the land, and a still more appalling prospect for the 
future presented itself in the succession of her sister 
Elizabeth. The vain hope of being succeeded by a 
child of her own faded away, and the daughter of 
Anne Boleyn as constantly weighed on the mind of 
Mary, as she was constantly present to the heart and 
the hopes of the English people. As all around her 



MARY. 289 

darkened, the mind of the Queen became more and 
more fanatic, and instead of faltering in her purpose, 
she only sought to precipitate its accomplishment. 
She would have removed Elizabeth herself from her 
path by violent means, but the policy of Philip as a 
Spanish King interposed to prevent the destruction 
of the great obstacle to the accession to the throne 
of England of the betrothed wife of the heir to the 
Crown of France. So all that was left to Mary of 
England was to continue with increased and unre- 
mitting severity her war of extermination on the other 
leaders of English Protestantism, and on its most 
devoted adherents. * After every allowance,' says 
the Catholic historian Lingard, ' it will be found that 
in the space of four years almost two hundred per- 
sons perished in the flames for religious opinions ; a 
number at the contemplation of which the mind is 
struck with horror.' The natural compassion of Mary, 
which had stayed her hand for some time from pro- 
ceeding to extremities against Jane Grey and the 
chiefs of the Dudley-Grey faction, and which displayed 
itself in other cases, where the interests of religion 
were not supposed to be concerned, was entirely dead- 
ened in her relation with these hateful heretics. 
Paith and a Church had achieved one more victory 
over Charity and human nature. Por these persecu- 
tions to the death Mary seems to be herself respon- 
sible, for the instigators and approvers of her detes- 
table course were comparatively obscure men. Neither 

u 



290 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Gardiner nor Pole, though, they had both lent them- 
selves to the persecution, is personally responsible for 
the extent to which it was actually carried. The 
Catholic world viewed the proceeding with aversion, 
and the Pope himself became a counsellor of mode- 
ration. But Mary's zeal for religion overleapt the 
bounds of ecclesiastical, as well as of civil policy, and 
ardent defender of the Catholic Church as she was, 
she still was Tudor enough to assert her authority 
against papal dictation. The prohibition of the 
publication of a Papal Bull within England by this 
champion of Catholicism is the strongest and 
strangest proof that the pride of a sovereign and the 
strong- will of a family cannot be suppressed by the 
most imperative claims of a formal creed. 

It is difficult to think of Mary in herself and apart 
from the fanaticism which absorbed her mind and 
her heart. Yet it seems evident that she had not 
the power of subordinating her own impulses to 
wider considerations of public policy. Not only did 
she reduce a national government to the character 
of a branch of the Inquisition, but she allowed 
England to sink into a secondary power in Europe, 
in obedience to her personal inclination for Philip 
and for Spain. No feeling that this humiliation was 
unintentional on the part of the Queen could save 
her from a growing unpopularity among the English 
people. ISTor did her domestic politics redeem her 
reputation. She had succeeded, indeed, to an im- 



MAKY. 291 

poverished kingdom, but she entirely failed in re- 
cruiting its wasted resources, while lavish in her 
benefactions and restitutions to her own Church at 
the national expense. Even her highest acts of 
statesmanship were unappreciated. Her attempts to 
foster the interests of commerce were chiefly pro- 
spectively advantageous, being dexoendent on the open- 
ing of fresh channels of enterprise, and the merchants 
felt during her reign only the exactions to which 
they were subjected. Poverty of the Exchequer and 
heavy taxes without glory were not a programme 
likely to conciliate Englishmen, who preferred a 
Sovereign that could make the kingdom wealthy and 
great, to one who tried to do right and was very 
compassionate to the poor. Even the higher morality 
and decorum of her Court were robbed of their popu- 
larity by being associated with stiffness and gloom. 
Although, except on the great point of religious per- 
secution, her errors were venial compared with those 
of many of her predecessors, and although she had 
instincts of right which few of them displayed, 
Mary seemed to be haunted by continual ill-luck. 
The secret perhaps lay in this, that, with good inten- 
tions and fair abilities, she failed absolutely in one 
essential of a great Sovereign. She understood no- 
thing of the people over whom she ruled, or of the 
times in which she was called upon to be a ruler. 



TJ 2 



292 



ELIZABETH. 

The reputation of Elizabeth Tudor has experienced 
nearly as many vicissitudes as that of her father, 
Henry, but the depreciatory estimate appears to be 
rather in the ascendant at the present time, and 
there is a disposition to deny to her not merely the 
moral, but the intellectual superiority which was 
once looked upon as her especial characteristic. No 
doubt there has been a great deal of undiscriminating 
and uninformed panegyric of the Protestant Queen, 
which has provoked, naturally enough, a strong 
reaction, as facts have been disinterred, and earlier 
judgments have been brought to light, which are 
quite inconsistent with this unqualified praise ; but I 
am disposed to think that this revulsion of opinion 
is likely to lead to an equally erroneous estimate of 
her character. If the more favourable view was 
wanting in distinctness of delineation, that which is 
becoming popular seems to be wanting in breadth 
and comprehensiveness; if the former was a mere 
generalisation of perfections, the latter appears to me 
to be wanting in a sense of the real significance and 



ELIZABETH. 293 

mutual bearing of her specific acts and of the vary- 
ing phases of her policy. 

In her natural character Elizabeth was a true 
Tudor, but in the manner and degree of the manifest- 
ation of the family qualities she differed from both 
her father and grandfather in so curiously compli- 
cated a manner, that it is difficult to say whether we 
are more assisted or perplexed in the elucidation of 
her real nature by the alternations of these resem- 
blances and contrasts. There was a coarseness of 
grain in the mental organisation of all the Tudors, 
but their physical constitution, as I have already 
said, exercised a considerable influence on the man- 
ner of its development. In Henry the Eighth the 
strong physique so predominated that it seems to 
overlay and obscure the natural vigour and subtlety 
of his mind on ordinary occasions, and it is only on 
such questions as the divorce from Catharine of 
Aragon that we recognise the inherent family ten- 
dency to casuistry. In Henry the Seventh, on the 
contrary, the casuistical element predominated, and 
the coarseness of grain showed itself rather in a 
passive insensibility to considerations of delicacy and 
honour, than in any active self-indulgence. Both 
the Henries had an unusually strong will, but in 
the son it was too often the master of his actions ; 
in the father it was tempered a,nd disciplined by 
the restraints and considerations of a more sus- 
tained thoughtfulness. In Elizabeth the headstrong 



294 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

self-will of her father was modified into a femi- 
nine wilfulness ; while the patient and hesitating 
thoughtfulness of her grandfather was intensified 
into a hampering and tormenting irresolution. In 
mental capacity, however, it seems to me that she 
excelled both. She had more vigour and elevation 
of purpose than her grandfather ; she had more self- 
knowledge, and therefore much more self-mastery, 
than her father. She had deeper insight and a 
wider range of vision than either of them. Henry 
the Eighth was the nursling of prosperity. He had 
the self-confidence and frankness inspired by a com- 
paratively assured position, and both the generosity 
and the self-indulgent habits which were the natural 
incidents of an overflowing treasury ; he sustained 
the position of England, but he wasted her resources, 
and absorbed the national in a personal policy. 
Henry the Seventh and Elizabeth were both trained 
in a school of adversity, and both succeeded to a 
starving exchequer, to an unstable throne, and to a 
lowered position among the nations of Europe. The 
former paid his way and accumulated a vast sum of 
money, laid the foundations of a settled state of 
society at home, and placed England in a position 
of equality abroad. Elizabeth also economised, but 
she did not extort or hoard ; for the greater part of 
her reign the taxation was light, while the Treasury 
was neither bankrupt nor overflowing. Henry the 
Seventh never escaped from the influence of his 



ELIZABETH. 295 

straitened early days, and, except in the fitting mag- 
nificence of his Court, was to the last very close-fisted. 
Elizabeth conld scrape for money with as little regard 
for decency and dignity as her grandfather, and was 
nearly as reluctant as he in disbursing her money. 
Both, in fact, had felt the necessity and appreciated the 
value and power of money. But in Henry there was an 
unmixed reluctance to part with it under any circum- 
stances, while in Elizabeth the disinclination seems 
rather to arise from a doubt as to the possible extent of 
expenditure to which she was committing herself, and 
a terror of indefinite drains on a limited exchequer. 
Where she knew the exact extent, and could estimate 
the exact significance and efficacy of the payment, 
she was often even lavish and seemingly heedless, as 
in her gifts to individuals. By this may be explained 
what has excited the indignation of later historians, 
her largesses to men of the Leicester or Hatton stamp, 
as compared with her stint in the crisis of a great 
national danger, or in the subsidies necessary to the 
efficiency of an enlarged international policy. She 
subsidised the former for her own pleasure or pecu- 
liar ends-; she made them certain benefactions accord- 
ingly, and so the matter seemed to end. But when 
foreign allies or dependents, such as the insurgents 
of Scotland and the Low Countries, repeatedly asked 
for money, the quid pro quo was often a little doubt- 
ful, and the necessity or expediency of the disburse- 
ment fair matter for hesitation. Even when the 



296 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

demand for money seems to us one which was 
imperative for the welfare or even safety of England, 
we must remember that it presented itself to the 
mind of the Queen as one among many similar 
conflicting claims on her purse, and that possibly 
what now appears to us inexplicable fatuity on her 
part may have been the result of a decision (perhaps 
a mistaken one) arrived at after long and anxious 
consideration. 

But unquestionably there was a dangerous ten- 
dency in the mind of Elizabeth to resist anything 
forced upon her as a necessity, and not proceeding 
from her own free and spontaneous will. This is a 
phase of the wilful side of her character. She could 
not endure being dictated to, in appearance even, by 
circumstances. She resisted the fatality of events 
with the energy of a most persistent advocate of 
the doctrine of free-will. She appeared almost to 
think that the only means of self-assertion lay in 
refusing to acknowledge seemingly inevitable con- 
clusions. She declared herself to be naturally very 
irresolute, but her irresolution did not, I imagine, 
arise from real self-distrust, so far as this implies the 
consciousness of the want of intellectual ability (for 
her self-esteem was nearly as great as that of her 
father Henry), but from a curious sense of the 
inadequacy of any human judgment to cope with the 
possibilities of events, and consequently from an 



ELIZABETH. 297 

exaggerated estimate of the importance of the ele- 
ment of uncertainty which there must be in every 
great problem of action presented to our notice. 
Hesitation and delay were in her not the tokens of 
an inability to grasp the conditions of the question, 
but of a mind which saw only too many possible 
contingencies, and sought in delay for what a modern 
poet has finely expressed as the great deficiency in 
times of political storm, 'the leisure to grow wise.' 
So far, indeed, was this irresolution from being in 
Elizabeth a mark of want of self-confidence, that it 
was fostered to a dangerous extent by this very excess 
of unconscious self-reliance. Like her great-grand- 
father, Edward the Fourth, whom she resembled in 
not a few respects, she often slighted a danger and 
postponed a remedy or a safe-guard until it was 
almost too late, from a conviction that, come what 
might, she should prove herself equal to the occasion. 
As she said to her last Parliament, * God had given 
her a heart that did never fear any enemies,' and 
she hesitated and deferred to commit herself unre- 
servedly to any course of policy, from feelings depen- 
ding partly on a strong sense of possibilities which 
might render that course unnecessary or unwise, and 
partly on a conviction that she could at any stage 
retrieve, by her own innate capacity, the consequences 
of her present hesitation, and so preserve her mastery 
of the situation. 

But "although Elizabeth's intellect saw difficulties 



298 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

in every course, her imagination temptations in 
every direction, and though her course was often 
made unsteady and uncertain by counter-currents of 
prudence, ambition, and wilful caprice, yet, on the 
whole, and in the end, taking long periods of time 
and a wide range of policy, she pursued the true 
course. The very power and subtlety of her mind 
indeed led her every now and then into grievous 
blunders, and she often allowed her more ignoble 
qualities to guide her conduct afc the expense of her 
own peace of mind. But however she might at times 
shrink back from its realisation, she had a vivid 
conception of a great, wide, and consistent policy, 
never entirely lost sight of it, and in the end accom- 
plished it in all material points. She began her rule as 
the sovereign of a country one-half of whose inhabit- 
ants seemed almost bound by the religious tenets 
which they held to look upon her as illegitimate, and 
as the representative of a great act of national schism, 
which in their hearts they deplored and reprobated. 
She found herself in the European Commonwealth a 
sort of pariah, tolerated as a matter of policy by rival 
nations, but in danger every day of a combination 
against her which would prove fatal to her own 
Crown, if not to the independence of England. In the 
northern portion of her own island a Queen reigned 
whose pretensions to the English Crown were avowed, 
and supported by much sympathy among English- 
men themselves, as well by the tie of marriage and 



ELIZABETH. 299 

tlie bond of a common religion with the two most 
powerful Sovereigns of the Continent. Yet in the 
end she not only secured and consolidated her own 
throne and baffled every adversary, but even made 
both France and Spain unwillingly co-operate to this 
very end, and sorely against their own inclinations 
remain passive spectators of the downfall of her once 
formidable Scottish rivaL The general result of the 
struggle in which Elizabeth was engaged from her 
accession to her death is so evident, that that alone 
would be sufficient foundation on which to rest her 
claim to sagacity and consistency in essentials. Her 
reign was too long, and the circumstances of the 
time varied too much during this period, for any run 
of mere luck to be a sufficient interpretation of this 
success. It was a uniform success, in the end, 
against all opponents under nearly every conceivable 
condition under which intellect could be pitted against 
intellect. And even if we look at shorter periods of 
time, and confine ourselves more closely to specific 
questions of policy, the result is in the same direc- 
tion if not always quite as marked. Historians, who 
have been displaying considerable critical acumen in 
demonstrating, under the inspiration of the passing 
impressions of foreign ambassadors, how thoroughly 
Elizabeth mismanaged affairs, are compelled again 
and again in their summary of results to acknow- 
ledge that, somehow or other, notwithstanding all 
this bungling, and this wilful disregard of the die- 



BOO ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

tates of wisdom and honour, the catastrophe of the 
drama is favourable to the misguided Queen, to a 
most strange and unexpected extent. It is only when 
we descend to each separate act, and dwell on the 
seeming or real vacillations' of every hour in the 
mind of the Queen, that we feel any misgivings as to 
her intellectual capacity. And it was part of the 
peculiar temperament of Elizabeth that, however 
subtle and tortuous might be her policy, she seemed 
to display every step of it to the critical gaze of 
interested spectators. Never was there an intriguer 
who worked so openly in the sight of all men ; 
never was there a dissembler who threw so little 
appearance of reality over the dissimulation. She 
cared little, indeed, for giving a passing impression 
of weakness and irresolution, and she blinded her 
adversaries quite as much by this candid display of 
her difficulties as by any more overt act of deception. 
She even worked out her own fancies of possibilities 
in the possibility of which she never herself really 
believed, before the bewildered eyes of the Spaniard 
and the Frenchman, until at last they knew not what 
was real and what was delusive, and effectually 
secured the purposes of Elizabeth by keeping their 
own Courts in an equal state of uncertain perplexity. 
She thus played even with her own weaknesses, and 
made her own irresolution perform the part of a piece 
of clever diplomacy. Much of her dissimulation may 
be explained in this manner. She was, as I have 



ELIZABETH. 301 

said, a bad actor, for she nearly always overdid her 
assumed part ; but this arose, to a great extent, from 
i her dissimulation itself generally representing some 
real, though not predominant feature of her own 
nature. She was in herself so curious a combination 
of contrary and seemingly quite inconsistent feelings 
and opinions, that she had only to give for the time 
the full rein to any one of these, and without being 
false to part of herself, though she was really false to 
herself as a whole, she could speak with the earnest- 
ness of truth, and left her audience in profound doubt 
between the impossibility of the fact in the form in 
which it was presented to them, and the impression 
of vraisemblance in the substance of the statement 
which her earnestness was, nevertheless, calculated 
to produce. She was from the first placed in so 
anomalous a position by her birth and her natural 
associations, that self-contradiction seemed a neces- 
sity of her existence. The most autocratic of natures 
was tied down by circumstances to become the leader 
of the great revolt of free thought against authority 
throughout Europe ; a mind most jealous of the 
rights and most peculiarly alive to the immunities of 
Sovereigns was compelled to become the instigator, 
or, at any rate, the countenancer, of rebellion in half 
the States of Europe, and to give a terrible illus- 
tration in her own kingdom of the responsibility of 
kings to the tribunal of public opinion, if not of 
justice ; one whose tastes and sympathies, as dis- 



302 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

tinguished from her intellectual convictions, were 
certainly with the great communion of Eoine, was 
compelled to become its most deadly enemy, and to 
countenance, if not a system, at any rate the favourers 
of a system against which her own nature revolted, 
as a standard of rebellion, and, in its hard Calvinistic 
type, as an intellectual dictator. Is it surprising, 
then, that she often hesitated in her path, and often 
looked back with longing and doubting eyes to the 
flesh-pots of Egypt, and indulged sometimes in 
dreams — but only dreams — of an elysium of repose 
in which Eome should be her guardian angel and 
Philip of Spain her natural ally ? But, in the end, 
and looking at her course as a whole, she restrained 
her own political and religious inclinations as effec- 
tually as she did her private feelings, when the vision 
of the clever, courtly, but reckless Leicester, the play- 
mate of her youth, and the assiduous flatterer of her 
weaker nature, presented itself to her imagination as 
her future husband. 

But there was an advantage for Elizabeth even in 
the self-contradiction of her nature and her position. 
If she was divided within herself, she represented all 
the more faithfully the divided state of opinion and 
feeling within the nation which she governed. She 
might and did persecute Puritans, but they felt that 
much of her intellect and the very existence of her 
queenly position were bound up with her allegiance 
to the cause of the Reformation. She might and did 



ELIZABETH. 303 

persecute the Roman Catholics as much as her sister 
Mary had persecuted the Protestants, though her 
motive was scarcely so much of a religious as of 
a political character. Yet the Catholics felt in their 
hearts that Elizabeth liked Protestants little as such, 
and still less Protestantism as an ecclesiastical 
system, and that her heart, though not her head, 
was with the old faith. So that neither Puritans 
nor Catholics felt themselves entirely cut off from 
sympathy with their Sovereign, and alike felt that 
she was not merely the Queen of one section or 
one faction of her subjects. And this independent 
position Elizabeth maintained to the last. She had 
strong sympathies with the elder Cecil on many 
points ; their natures were in some respects similar, 
but their different positions necessarily made a dif- 
ference in their mode of looking at public affairs; and 
Elizabeth, though she listened to and trusted William 
Cecil as she never listened to or trusted any other 
man, always preserved her own policy as distinct from 
his, and however she might allow it to be modified, 
never permitted it to be superseded by, him. It 
was her great merit to find out, and to maintain at 
her side, great and capable men, and not to be 
unworthily jealous of any intellectual comparison 
between herself and them. But she never allowed 
them to become the arbiters of the national policy ; 
this ultimate arbitration she kept in her own hands, 
and she maintained certain checks to their growing 



304 ESTIMATES QE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

influence, and often mortified their self-esteem by 
lavishing, at the same time, even exaggerated marks 
of favour on a set of rivals wholly inferior to them 
in ability and character, but at the same time the 
representatives of feelings and prejudices which had 
no little hold on a part of the nation; and which 
were kept in order and satisfied by this specious 
representation in Court circles. And although 
Burghley was in the main a sagacious and right- 
minded statesman, it was well for England that 
Elizabeth never dropped the reins of power into his 
hands ; for, with all his merits, he was still the head 
of a party and the representative of fixed ideas ; and 
party spirit was then the great internal danger of 
England, and a too stereotyped policy almost as 
great an external disability. It was not Cecil, but 
Elizabeth, who, by her subtle and delusive policy, 
held Philip in her leading-strings, until the time had 
come when he was compelled to make his great 
effort against her, under circumstances which, if 
still very encouraging, were infinitely less so than 
they had been at any epoch since her accession to 
the English throne. 

Of the better known qualities of Elizabeth I have 
little need to speak in detail. Her personal vanity, 
— so open as to be more like a curious affectation 
than a real weakness — with its amusing and charac- 
teristic preference of praise for the youth and beauty 
which she had not, to a just meed of admiration for 



ELIZABETH. 305 

the dignity and grace which she really possessed. 
Her royal bearing, which was so greatly aided by a 
stately person, a keen, piercing eye, and an aquiline 
nose in full harmony with her imperial cast of features* 
Her urbanity to all classes, the spell which she threw 
over such spirits as Ealeigh and Sydney, and the 
somewhat rough and boisterous greetings with which 
she encountered the coarser mother-wit and pro- 
pitiated the good- will of the lower orders. Her 
woman's nature so complete and so conspicuous in 
itself, and yet married to a mind so masculine and 
so sardonic ! The Parliamentary records tell how 
she could manage a House of Commons nearly as 
easily as an individual Minister, recognising its 
place in the Constitution, but ruling its insurrectional 
energies with a skilful alternation of the curb and the 
loose rein. But, as in her foreign and general policy, 
the result is the best proof of the judgment and tact 
of the means employed. What Sovereign, except 
one of great intellectual ascendancy, could have 
evoked at the close of so long a reign, from repre- 
sentative men who felt and thought so differently 
from her on so many delicate points, that outburst of 
enthusiastic loyalty and grateful confidence which 
crowned the last session of her last Parliament ? 

Elizabeth presents a character against which 
much may be said with justice in particulars, and 
regarding which, as a whole, the verdict in respect 
of strict morality can scarcely be a favourable one. 

x 



306 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

But the main lines of the picture are firm and not 
unpleasing, and if virtue is to be measured by 
greatness of intention — if immorality of practice 
can be palliated in our judgment by the necessities 
of an almost unparalleled position of perplexity and 
danger — and if the disposition to good or to evil 
is measured by the opportunities offered and the 
temptations deliberately overcome, perhaps it will 
be considered that few Sovereigns have passed 
through such an ordeal, under such original disad- 
vantages of education and peculiar disposition, with 
so little dishonour to themselves, and so much ad- 
vantage to the country whose interests they were 
called upon to consult. But it is only through her 
intellectual greatness that we can understand and 
appreciate Elizabeth's morality such as it was ; and 
it is only on an intellectual basis, using the term in 
its widest sense, that her reputation as one of the 
very greatest of English Sovereigns must, after all, 
be built up and established. 



307 



JAMES TEE FIRST. 

Evert one who attempts to draw a picture of James 
Stuart must feel a great difficulty in the fact that a 
master-hand has anticipated him, and that after the 
remarkable portrait in Sir Walter Scott's c Fortunes 
of Nigel/ any sketch by other hands must appear 
faint and colourless. All that I can do is to place 
before the reader the salient features of a character 
of which the popular mind has already a tolerably 
correct impression. 

As to the more prominent and superficial charac- 
teristics of James, there can be little fear of going 
astray, either in the direction of caricature or flattery. 
These are to be gathered from the pages of nearly 
every writer of the period, and they are presented 
in unmistakable features under the hand of the 
King himself, in his printed works and in his 
familiar correspondence. All that there can be any 
hesitation or dispute about is whether certain am- 
biguous and questionable transactions have or have 
not a deeper moral significance, and do or do not 
imply a greater capability for evil. On these points, 

x 2 



308 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

however, the evidence we possess is so inadequate 
and so perplexing, that anyone in forming a decision 
must rely to a considerable extent on his favourable 
or unfavourable prepossessions, and it is more pru- 
dent to confine oneself to a statement of the difficulty, 
and to suspend a decided judgment. 

James the Sixth of Scotland ascended the throne 
of England in the thirty-seventh year of his age. 
His character therefore, whatever it was, might in 
any case be supposed to have been fully matured, 
and events had in his case precipitated this develop- 
ment. Anything more unfavourable than the train- 
ing of early circumstances which he underwent can 
hardly be imagined. The accredited child of a mar- 
riage terminated by a tragedy which has cast a deep 
stain of suspicion on the memory of one parent ; with 
the taint of possible illegitimacy attaching itself to 
his own birth; at first the involuntary supplanter 
and then the successful rival of his own mother, he 
was from his earliest years placed in a position from 
which few characters, indeed, could have escaped 
without serious detriment, and from which his own 
peculiar character was especially likely to suffer. 
His sympathies, deprived by the necessities of his 
position of even the power of expansion afforded by 
the relations of the family circle, were from the first 
turned inwards on himself, and the domestic ties 
which he afterwards formed, as husband and father, 
implying deference to his superior wisdom and will, 



JAMES THE FIEST. 309 

were only such as to exaggerate this egotism of 
thought and feeling. When he reached years of in- 
telligence, he found himself in the hands of ambitious 
statesmen and fierce factions, by whom his person 
was used as an instrument of authority for purposes 
as to which his own wishes were scarcely ever con- 
sulted. While thus he was made to feel the signifi- 
cance and importance of the royal name and authority 
more and more, and in the downfall of each of his 
successive masters saw a lesson of the instability of 
usurped and illegitimate power, he was naturally led 
to place a disproportionate value on the exercise of 
his own free-will, and to regard any suspension of 
this as equivalent to a condition of public instability 
and anarchy. As time rolled on, opportunities of 
temporary self-assertion presented themselves more 
frequently in the rivalries of contending parties, and 
almost insensibly his personal wishes gained more 
influence over the course of events. In proportion 
as the restraints frequently imposed on his authority 
and will had been unduly severe, so the licence which 
was every now and then afforded to his prejudices 
and caprices was dangerously great. Whenever he 
was at all a free agent, he was so absolutely and with- 
out restriction. How he availed himself of these 
opportunities the records of Scotland during that 
period tell us too plainly. Afraid of trusting himself 
to any man of established position or commanding 
talents, lest he should find in him only another 



310 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

master, James threw himself into the hands of fa> 
vourites, who owed all their fortunes to his bounty, 
and whom on that account he could complacently 
regard as the creatures of his will, and the mere 
ministers of his wishes. These men were not worse 
in character than most of the actors in the events of 
those days, but they possessed the disqualification of 
being by the yery nature of their position destitute 
of sympathies with the nation, and mere exponents 
and agents of a strictly personal policy. By them 
the King's natural weakness of character was fostered 
and aggravated, and the petty tyranny which his 
foolish fondness enabled each in turn to exercise over 
him was exercised to the advantage not of the nation 
at large, but of the favourite himself and his personal 
connections. Meanwhile the great religious move- 
ment which had for the first time created a really 
national life in Scotland suffered in tone and mode 
of expression from the low and selfish influences with 
which it was thus brought into contact, and the 
mantle of John Knox descended on men who imitated 
his uncompromising and uncourtly bluntness of man- 
ner, without maintaining his high purposes and his 
lofty principle. They could beard and insult the 
King in his palace and denounce him from the pulpit, 
but they shared eventually the fate of those who in- 
trude into a sphere of action which lies apart 
from the centres of their natural strength, and par- 
took of the vicissitudes of Court intrigue, instead of 



JAMES THE FIKST. 



311 



controlling the currents of popular sentiment. They 
alienated the mind of the King thoroughly from all 
sympathy with their religious cause, by associating 
it with constant antagonism to all that he cherished 
and desired, and with insolence to his own person. 
Thus to the other delights of the Promised Land, 
which his succession to the throne of England 
offered to James, were added the hope of being able 
there to gratify his secret but ingrained loathing of 
Presbyterianism and Presbyterians, and the joy of 
making the Bishops who governed the Church as he 
made the ministers who governed the State. Every 
restraint, indeed, that he suffered from in Scotland 
increased his desire to attain to the southern elysium, 
and exaggerated to his imagination the extent of the 
emancipation from control which he would there secure. 
The real conditions under which the Tudors had exer- 
cised such almost unlimited power, his mind — even 
had its early discipline been less unfortunate — would 
never have been capable of grasping, far less of being- 
guided by in his rules of action. He never could 
have been brought to see that the reason why that 
astute line of Sovereigns were subjected to so little 
control from the people whom they governed, was 
because they had the art and wisdom of so much 
controlling themselves where national feelings were 
concerned, and of making themselves the expo- 
nents of the national will, instead of setting up any 
personal policy of their own as its ostentatious anta- 



312 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

gonist. < To the mind of James there was no medium 
between being browbeaten by insolent nobles and 
presuming preachers, and being able to indulge to 
the utmost, without regard to any external circum- 
stances, his own unbridled fancies. Order with him 
was another name for licence in the Ruler, just as 
Anarchy was for licence in the Subject. Had he been 
capable of interpreting rightly anything that he saw, 
the minute knowledge of the real state of affairs in 
England during the latter years of Elizabeth, which 
his frequent communications with the leading states- 
men and aspiring politicians of that kingdom offered 
to him, ought to have instructed him on this point. 
But his mind was quite unequal to looking at more 
than one point at a time, and he almost invariably 
confined himself to those which were most insigni- 
ficant and irrelevant. Of the power of combining 
ideas and forming a just deduction from them he was 
quite destitute. Little side-channels constantly at- 
tracted his notice and excited his curiosity so forcibly, 
that he exhausted all his shrewdness and the re- 
sources of a miscellaneous and ill-digested stock of 
learning in exploring their byeways and in fathoming 
the supposed depths of their shallows, while the main 
stream which led straight to the desired bourne 
passed by him, though stretched before his eyes, un- 
heeded and unknown. In little things he could be 
very shrewd, both in word and deed. But his 
shrewdness instinctively failed him exactly where its 



JAMES THE FIRST. 313 

exercise was of most importance. Like most persons 
who are great in small things, he had an overweening 
opinion of his own wisdom and sagacity. He seri- 
ously believed that he could easily deal with questions 
which had baffled or perplexed Elizabeth, and com- 
mand where she had been content to temporise and 
persuade. He could so little estimate a really great 
crisis that, instead of feeling any difficulty or doubt 
as to its solution, he unconsciously lowered its pro- 
portions to the standard of his own mind, and felt 
himself fully master of the situation. His real quali- 
fications, such as they were, served to increase this 
delusion. He had been crammed with the ponderous 
learning of the day, and he had the insatiate craving 
for more food of this description which is felt by 
those who read without digesting, and acquire a vast 
stock of knowledge without adding, except in an in- 
finitesimal degree, to the treasures and capacity of 
their own mind. The wisdom which was scattered 
through the pages which he perused passed into his 
mind in the concrete shape of aphorisms and astute 
generalities, which were ever in his mouth, and 
might give a superficial impression of a superior un- 
derstanding. A dry and somewhat sarcastic sense 
of humour even suggested a still greater penetration. 
But he had never really mastered the meaning of 
what he read so as to be able to apply it; it formed 
no part of his practical rule of conduct, and was as 
useless for any practical purpose as if he had been a 



314 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

dunce instead of a pedant. His occasional humor- 
ous sayings were, after all, the expression of mere 
superficial and transient perceptions, and implied no 
actual insight into the relations of things. The real 
motive and explanation of his actions generally lay 
somewhere else — in some rooted prejudice, in some 
vain self-conceit, in some passing passion, or in a 
careless good-nature. His faith in his own capacity 
for government, and his ambition to emulate the 
great kings whose reputation he admired, and whose 
axioms were his common-places, joined to an easy, 
good-natured, and kindly temperament, made him 
disposed to govern well, and to promote the happiness 
and prosperity of his people. But this general pur- 
pose was proof against no temptation of personal 
selfishness or idle caprice, and of little practical value 
in a prince who had no power of looking beyond 
immediate circumstances, and no capacity of sym- 
pathy with anything which did not lie within his 
own narrow circle of ideas, or which did not, to his 
limited understanding, palpably concern his own in- 
terests. He had learned so long to consider these 
interests as the centre of everything that was impor- 
tant, that he could not conceive of anything which 
lay, or seemed to lie, beyond their sphere being 
worthy of consideration. Neither national sentiment 
nor the welfare of an individual subject entered into 
the constituent elements of his decisions, except in 
the form of a fear to be guarded against, or an adver- 



JAMES THE EHIST. 315 

sarj to be disarmed. Both his mind and heart were 
shallow. His anger was violent and unseemly in its 
manifestation, but quickly evanescent; and his re- 
sentments, though they were not easily entirely 
eradicated, were rather recurring than chronic in 
their symptoms, and were easily superseded, at least 
i for the time, by passing impressions and incidental 
feelings. As a rule, he rather cherished a grievance 
thau resented injuries. A few things and a few per- 
sons, indeed, he hated with an intenser feeling, 
almost unaccountable in its disproportionate strength. 
He detested the use of tobacco, and he hated its 
great patron, Ealeigh — the first theoretically, the 
second instinctively, from a consciousness of the 
natural antagonism of such a nature (both in its good 
and evil points) to his own ; but while no amount of 
reason would have convinced him of error in the 
former case, his own interests (when he could be 
made to see them) would be sufficient to disarm for 
the time his active resentment in the latter case. 

If it were not for evidence that James was as 
unconscious of his physical as he was of his mental 
deficiencies, one might have been inclined to suppose 
that he placed an undue value on the little wit he 
did possess, from a feeling that he could lay claim to 
no respect on the score of his personal appearance or 
bodily accomplishments. The son of a very hand- 
some mother, and the accredited son of a handsome 
father, he resembled neither of them in physical 



316 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

appearance. Scandal said that his want of good 
looks and ungainliness were additional proofs of the 
paternity which it assigned to him. Perhaps the 
most minute description of his person in later years 
which is free from satirical animus is that given 
by the Court physician, Sir Theodore Mayerne, in 
his memorials of his professional attendance on the 
King. Sir Theodore (as quoted by Sir Henry Ellis) 
says that his Majesty's legs were slender — scarcely 
strong enough to carry his body ; that his jaw was 
narrow, and rendered swallowing difficult — a defect 
which he inherited both from his mother and from 
his grandfather, King James the Fifth; that in 
moist weather and winter he had usually a cough ; 
that his skin was soft and delicate, but irritable; that 
he never ate bread, always fed on roast meat, and 
seldom or never ate of boiled, unless it was beef; 
that he was very clumsy in his riding and hunting, 
and frequently met with accidents ; that he slept ill, 
waked often in the night, and called his chamberlains ; 
nor could sleep be again easily induced, unless some 
one read to him; that he was passionate, but that his 
wrath quickly subsided; that he had naturally a 
good appetite, and a moderately fair digestion ; that 
he was very often thirsty, drank frequently, and 
mixed his liquors, being very promiscuous in the use 
of wines. Sir Theodore, however, adds that his head 
was strong, and never affected by the sea, by drinking 
wine, or riding in a chariot. Till 1613 he had never 



JAMES THE FIRST. 317 

taken medicine, and, like his predecessor, was always 
averse to it. Towards the close of his life the Kine 
suffered under a complication of disorders, stone, 
gout, and gravel. Sir Theodore dwells particularly 
on the grief of James for the deaths of Prince 
Henry and the Queen ; the latter was followed by a 
severe illness at Boyston. Another friendly writer, 
Fuller, says that (after his accession to the English 
throne) ' his Scotch tone he rather affected than de- 
clined, and though his speaking spoiled his speech 
in some English ears, yet the masculine worth of his 
set orations commanded reverence, if not admiration, 
in all judicious hearers; but in common speaking, 
as in his hunting, he stood not upon the clearest, 
but the nearest way. He would never go about to 
make any expressions.' Unfriendly writers give little 
more than a malicious amplification of the above 
particulars, We learn from them that the King was 
of middle stature, moderately corpulent; his eyes 
large and always rolling, and his beard thin — his 
tongue so much too large for his mouth that he 
drank in an unseemly manner. His legs were weak, 
and his walk circular. This weakness caused him to 
lean on other men's shoulders, and was the source of 
the unseemly lolling on his favourites which was so 
much remarked. He was constant in his apparel, 
usually dressing in the same fashion, and delighting 
to wear his clothes till they came to rags. His 
doublet was quilted for stiletto-proof. His dress is 



318 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

described as of bright green. He never washed his 
hands, but only rubbed his fingers slightly with the 
wetted end of a napkin. That he was a great 
drinker of wine we have seen already on indisputable 
evidence ; whether he was often overcome by it is a 
matter of doubt. The physician's account proves that 
he was not intoxicated easily, but we know from dis- 
tinct evidence that he was certainly so occasionally. 
Other accounts tell us that he took very little at a 
time, but that the wine was very strong, and that he 
took it very frequently; so that probably, without 
being often visibly overcome by it, he was always to 
some extent under its influence ; and in his later 
years, when he often suffered from acute pain, he 
drank more copiously at a time, and the effects were 
more evident. 

But if nature had given James an unprepossessing 
personal appearance and an ungraceful carriage, he 
increased the effects of both by his careless and un- 
becoming habits. If his person had little in it to 
inspire reverence, by his demeanour he often pro- 
duced a more active feeling of disgust and con- 
tempt. The reports of the French ambassadors at 
the English Court are to be received, no doubt, with 
caution, since James was regarded by them as an 
enemy, in consequence of his Spanish leanings but 
they record certain phases of character which are so 
much in harmony with the impression left by nearly 
all contemporary accounts, and by James's own corre- 




JAMES THE FIRST. 319 

spondence, that they can hardly be very far from the 
actual truth. ' When he wishes to assume the 
language of a king,' they observe, ( his tone is that 
of a tyrant ; and when he condescends, he is vulgar.' 
And again, they tell us that the King c was yesterday 
a little disturbed hj the populace, which ran to- 
gether from all sides to see him. He fell into such 
anger upon this, that I was quite unable to appease 
him ; he cursed every one he met, and swore that if 
they would not let him follow the chase at his 
pleasure he would leave England — words of passion 
which meant no harm, but calculated to draw upon him 
great contempt and inextinguishable hate from the 
people.' By thus neglecting so simple a means of 
obtaining popularity as a little courtesy and affability 
on a chance occasion such as this, James threw away 
wantonly one of the great props of the power of his 
predecessor, and reduced himself for the support of 
his administration to the bare theory of monarchy, 
stretched in an ostentatious manner to its utmost ex- 
tent. No theory, however good, could stand so per- 
petual an appeal to its unsupported authority. In- 
stead of accepting the constitution of England as he 
found it established, and making it, as Elizabeth had 
done, the instrument of his own purposes by always 
displaying sympathy with the predominant and most 
cherished feelings of the nation, James fretted under 
its restraints, and was always trying in some manner 
more or less direct to remove its safeguards and 



320 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

undermine its foundations. c The King of Spain/ he 
observed bitterly to Gondomar, the Spanish am- 
bassador, has more kingdoms and subjects than I 
have, hut there is one thing in which I surpass him. 
He has not so large a Parliament. The Cortes of 
Castile are composed of little more than thirty per- 
sons. In my kingdom there are nearly five hundred. 
The House of Commons is a body without a head. 
The members give their opinions in a disorderly man- 
ner. At their meetings nothing is heard but cries, 
shouts, and confusion. I am surprised that my an- 
cestors should ever have permitted such an institution 
to come into existence. I am a stranger, and I 
found it here when I came, so I am obliged to put up 
with what I cannot get rid of.' Such being the 
spirit in which James regarded his Parliament, it 
can hardly be wondered at that the disagreements 
between them were frequent and serious. But so far 
from merely putting up with what he found, James, 
after attempting to encroach on the privileges of that 
assembly, found it necessary not only to recede, but 
to make greater concessions than Elizabeth had ever 
made, without gaining any of the credit for the act 
which she obtained. For he always yielded too late, 
and when all the grace of concession was over. 

There was one feature in the character of James 
which was the source of much of his conduct. He 
was by nature more than timid, he was an abject 
coward, and nothing but some imminent fear in 



JAMES THE EIEST. 321 

another direction could rouse him to anything manly 
either in thought or action. The terrors of the night 
in which David Eizzio was murdered are supposed to 
have had something to do with this temperament, and 
James seems to be entitled quite as much to our com- 
passion as to our contempt for this characteristic. It 
also was not without a certain beneficial effect in one 
respect on the mind of the English Nation, though 
it had a tendency to demoralise it in other ways. 
The enterprises of Elizabeth's sailors against the 
Spaniards in the West Indies, while they had mate- 
rially assisted in raising the national reputation, and 
breaking down the power of Spain, had engendered 
a buccaneering and freebooting spirit in Englishmen 
of all classes, which, if left unchecked, might have 
materially lowered ere long the whole national cha- 
racter. The cowardice of James put a check to this, 
though at the expense of the national reputation and 
the national honour, and when the opportunity of 
action was again offered to the sailors of England, 
they made their expeditions under the influence of 
other and higher feelings, and the gallant semi-pirates 
Drake and Ealeigh were succeeded by the equally 
gallant but high-souled and religious Blake. James, 
from the very fear of fighting, was a peacemaker by 
nature, and whatever religious principle he had, de- 
veloped itself in nearly the only Christian maxim 
which he attempted to realise practically, c Blessed 
are the peacemakers ! ' Yet, in his hands, this 

T 



322 ESTIMATES OE *THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

maxim became a cover for all sorts of base and im- 
becile proceedings. Of course, he was not capable 
of grasping the real meaning of the sentiment, and 
consequently, while he every now and then violated 
both its letter and spirit by useless and faint-hearted 
demonstrations of physical force, he preserved the 
letter and violated the spirit in a wanton abandonment 
of his duties as a King of England and a Prince of 
Europe. There may be differences of opinion at the 
present day as to the wisdom or impolicy of an 
armed intervention by England at that epoch in the 
affairs of the Continent — though the mere instinct 
of self-preservation appeared to demand it ; but there 
can be none as to the shifty, vacillating course which 
James actually pursued. The victories of Gustavus 
Adolphus and the Eevolution in England which 
placed Cromwell at the head of affairs, saved us from 
much of the danger to which, humanly speaking, 
England had exposed herself from the great Catholic 
league, hj the inaction and ill-directed action of 
James, and so have to a great degree cloaked his 
misconduct; but even the most uncompromising 
advocates of a strictly pacific non-intervention and 
of patriotism in its narrowest sense, will shrink from 
committing themselves to praise of the policy of the 
Stuart King, which, pacific in name, was in fact a 
series of unnecessary humiliations. 

But, in truth, the motives of the action and inac- 
tion of James iii this matter, though instigated and 



JAMES THE EIEST. 323 

fostered by a love of peace, were not merely pacific. 
The country with which it was the wish of English- 
men, and to them, at any rate, seemed to be their 
duty, to go to war, was the representative of a prin- 
ciple of absolute power in kings, which had a charm 
for the imagination of James that largely increased 
his disinclination to become the enemy of its assertor. 
His elysium of autocracy was now transferred from 
London to Madrid, and the representatives of the 
system of popular anarchy were now, to his mind, the 
United Provinces of Holland and the Palatine-King of 
Bohemia, whose cause he was asked to espouse. The 
only disturbing forces to this bias in favour of Spain 
and this antagonism to Continental Protestantism 
were the terrors of gunpowder plots at home, a royal 
jealousy of Papal supremacy, and a hankering after 
the flattering position of the acknowledged head of 
the Protestant interest in Europe. And it is by the 
alternate ascendancy of these conflicting sentiments, 
joined to an occasional dread of the indignation of 
his own people, that the vacillating and tortuous 
course of James's foreign policy is mainly to be ex- 
plained. Any other acts of his in this department 
which may seem inexplicable are probably to be re- 
ferred to the fussy restlessness of his nature, which 
made him a busybody, though it could not nerve 
him to serious or decided action. 

The poverty of his exchequer, to which his policy 
of abstinence from war has been sometimes speciously 

y 2 



324 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH ZINGS. 

attributed, can hardly be its true explanation. James 
always found money to spend on Court festivities and 
pleasures, and to lavish on his extravagant favourites ; 
and one great reason of his being unable to procure 
more money from his Parliaments was the fact, that 
he wasted on such objects that which had been already 
bestowed on him, instead of employing it for the 
furtherance of a great national policy. In the cause 
of the Palatine, at any rate, if not in that of their 
commercial rivals, the Dutch Provinces, the purse- 
strings of the English people would have been will- 
ingly undrawn. I come then to, what must be my 
last point, the relations between James and his 
Favourites, and the questionable deaths of Prince 
Henry and Sir Thomas Overbury. In the case of 
any one less foolish than James, I must confess that 
I should be inclined, from the evidence we possess, 
to draw the most unfavourable inferences as to the 
nature of the unseemly familiarity which existed be- 
tween this king and Carr and Yilliers. But James 
had so little idea of dignity and decency of deport- 
ment, and was so gross and prurient in his imagi- 
nation, as distinguished from immorality in act, that 
I hesitate to decide against him, and even incline to 
the belief that he was innocent of the deeper charge. 
As to the death of Prince Henry, if it were not a 
natural one, — on which point I do not think our evi- 
dence enables us to pronounce an absolute opinion, 
though it seems rather to preponderate against the 



JAMES THE FIRST. 325 

poisoning theory — I do not believe that James at the 
worst can be accused of anything more than perhaps 
a guilty knowledge or suspicion that something 
against the life of the Prince had been contemplated, 
probably in that case by some one who was too dear 
to him, or too much in his secrets, for him to over- 
come a cowardly disinclination to interfere. Even 
this is very doubtful, and nothing but the prying 
character and strange conduct of James himself 
would justify me in saying as much as this, even in 
the case of so suspicious a death. Of the Overbury 
business I can speak still less decidedly, for it is en- 
veloped in the most perplexing obscurity. It seems 
to me almost impossible to read the letters of James 
to the Lieutenant of the Tower, when Somerset gave 
vent to some threat of what he would do if he were 
brought to his trial for the murder, without the gravest 
suspicion that James had some guilty knowledge, if 
not actual connivance in the affair. No mere poli- 
tical secret seems to be an adequate explanation of 
his evident terror and consternation. It was clearly 
something strictly personal in its imputation, the 
disclosure of which the King so fearfully dreaded ; 
and there is unfortunately nothing in James's private 
character to place an absolute negative on the un- 
favourable solution I have hinted at, though there 
is not anything to make the presumption over" 
powering. 

Such, in the main features of his character, appears 



326 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

to me to have been James Stuart, one of the weakest, 
though perhaps not the most worthless, of the Kings 
who had reigned in England since the days of Henry 
the Third. Knowing just too much and thinking 
just too much to be a passive spectator of events, 
but with far too little either of real knowledge or 
thoughtfulness to be fit for the direction of any great 
affair, self-conceited rather than self-confident or self- 
reliant, a philosopher and a Christian in theory, and 
a fool and an unscrupulous man in practice, he pro- 
bably did as little good, though perhaps also as 
little evil, as any man with such stagnant good in- 
tentions and such active inclinations. 



327 



CHARLES TEE FIRST. 

The character of Charles Stuart is still the subject of 
warm controversy, and there is little probability of 
pnblic opinion becoming unanimous on the question, 
for his life is not merely the story of the career of an 
individual sovereign, but the record of a great national 
struggle, and of the most important era in the civil 
history of England. Hence, although comparatively 
few persons are now to be found who will commit them- 
selves to an unreserved panegyric of Charles, there is 
still so large an amount of sympathy in certain classes 
of society with the political and religious tendencies 
which he is supposed to represent, and of dislike to 
the persons or principles of those by whom he was 
opposed, as to create a disposition to regard all his 
actions from a favourable point of view, and to 
extenuate, if not defend, his most questionable 
proceedings. Independently, too, of these preposses- 
sions, there is something in the character of Charles, 
and in the real facts of the case, to mislead a su- 
perficial observer, and at first to lend a certain 
plausibility to the attractive picture of him which 
the softening influences of time and the imaginations 



328 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of his sympathisers have substituted for the real man. 
Every one is acquainted with the conception of him 
which is still perhaps the prevalent one in the 
majority of English drawing-rooms, as a stately 
English gentleman of the most refined tastes and 
habits, of highly cultivated mind, deep religious 
feelings, and the purest morals, who unfortunately 
entertained — or rather was educated into — notions of 
absolute authority, which were inconsistent with the 
predominant spirit of the age, though justified by 
precedents, and who, after making every concession 
consistent with right to the exorbitant demands of 
his rebellious subjects, resisted them by arms in 
strict self-defence, and more than expiated any errors 
he had committed in his lifetime by his heroic and 
saintly bearing on the scaffold. Yet such a repre- 
sentation, in my opinion, can be supported only by 
the widest deductions from the most imperfect pre- 
misses, by a total disregard of all but a few isolated 
facts, and a violation of all the sequences and natural 
relations of events. Yery different will be the result 
if, abandoning all vague generalities, we study the 
man in the realities of his actual life, and allow these 
to speak for themselves, as we should do in estimating 
the character and motives of other men. At the 
same time, the truer portrait may explain the origin 
of the highly-coloured party tradition. 

The best plea in extenuation of any faults in the 
character of Charles is, that he was the son of such a 



CHAELES THE FIEST. 329 

man as we have seen James Stnart to have been, and 
that he was brought up under such influences as 
would spring from the character of his father, and 
the morale of such a Court and such an administration 
of affairs. Charles could not have escaped altogether 
from the contagion of such an atmosphere, unless he 
had himself possessed a temperament which acted as 
a natural antidote to the poison, or unless his moral 
organisation was of so high an order as to enable 
him to perceive and deliberately eschew the evil 
influences to which he was exposed. From this 
point of view, then, while proper allowance must be 
made for the evil in the character or conduct of 
Charles which can be identified as hereditary, or the 
result of early training and early associations, we 
must also discriminate, in arriving at a conclusion as 
to his moral calibre, between that absence of evil in 
him which was the result of an immunity from 
temptation and due to his natural temperament, and 
that which sprang from his conscious preference of 
good to evil, where that natural temperament gave a 
dangerous incentive to pursue the wrong path. Nor, 
while we lay proper stress on the impressions as to 
his rights and duties which he may have derived 
from early tuition, must we forget to note any facts 
which may show that he had become alive to the 
erroneousness of these early lessons soon enough to 
have saved him from evil consequences if he had only 
been self-consistent in his subsequent career. Looked 



330 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

at in this manner, what do we find to be the leading 
facts bearing on the character and moral responsibility 
of Charles? 

He was the son of a man of gross temperament, 
who, if not from that cause actually very profligate, 
was flagrantly indecorous in his habits, and the 
diffusive centre of licentiousness in court and 
country. But the natural temperament of Charles 
was of a finer grain, and although he had no such 
active antipathy to debauchery as to prevent him 
from adopting an unscrupulous debauchee as his 
only bosom friend, and though he had become 
habituated to and tolerant of an amount of grossness 
and immorality in his daily associations that would 
surprise some of his modern admirers, and shocked 
the nice susceptibilities of some of the more pure- 
minded among his contemporary partisans — he was 
himself generally cleanly and decorous in his personal 
habits, and compared with his father and his father's 
courtiers, and many of his own, moral in conduct 
and refined in tastes. That he was personally not 
entirely untainted on this point by the associations 
of his early life is demonstrable, but while this is not 
to be dwelt upon as an index of his real character, 
only a modified praise can be bestowed on his 
superiority to James in decorum of life. His morality 
in this respect was too passive to be estimated as a 
great virtue, and affords no evidence of higher per- 
ceptions of moral purity. A formal decorousness of 



CHAKLES THE FIRST. 331 

demeanour was in harmony with his natural coldness 
of temperament and reserve, and threw around the 
person of Charles a halo of respectability which 
would not have attached to him had his nature been 
more emotional. An overruling sense of duty seems 
scarcely more strongly marked in such a morality, 
than it is in the general acceptance of the moral rules 
of any church or creed. In this 'restricted sense 
Charles may have striven to live morally, and, as far 
as this implies merit, he is entitled to it. There was, 
however, another feature in his demeanour, which 
the popular mind has instinctively perceived, and on 
which the idea of his superiority is mainly based. 
This is the aesthetic one. By nature Charles was an 
artist, as well as in fact a connoisseur and patron of 
art. His ill-health as a boy, the weakness of his 
limbs at that period, and his imperfection of speech 
had suggested the cultivation of a naturally fine eye, 
as an important resource, and a certain external 
refinement of manner had been the result, which 
would have been sufficient in itself to make a 
marked distinction between him and his father 
James. The dignity of bearing in Charles, which 
owed so much to this sesthetic cause, and which was 
sustained by a profound sense of self-importance and 
superiority, was, it is true, too often replaced and 
travestied by a frigid haughtiness, and was sometimes 
lost altogether in moments of great irritation and 
when this self-conceit was strongly outraged ; but at 



332 ESTIMATES <jj? THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

other times it nright be easily mistaken for that true 
courtesy which arises from a constant sense of what 
is due to the position and feelings of others as well 
as to a man's own. But of this essential charac- 
teristic of a really high-bred gentleman, Charles was 
destitute, and although we must attribute his 
deficiency in a great measure to the unfortunate 
influence and example of his father, and cannot 
therefore in justice allow it to weigh much in the 
scale in our general moral estimate of him, it is a 
fact, nevertheless, which must materially affect our 
sympathy with his character as a whole. 1 

There was another refining influence to which the 
character of Charles was subjected in early years, 
which might have been also an elevating one of no 
common kind. The same physical weakness which 
had led him to his art-studies had made him — in this 
case, no doubt, with the strong encouragement of his 
father — a diligent and earnest reader of books. His 
deeper studies of dogmatic and scholastic theology 
were relieved by the literature of the poets and 
dramatists ; and had the wise lessons to be derived 
from the pages of Shakspeare made as much 
impression on the mind of Charles as did, unfortu- 
nately, the divinity schoolmen and the casuists of the 
then recently risen advocates of right-divine in Church 

1 Miss Austen, in her very effective tale, ' Persuasion,' appears to me 
to preserve in Sir Walter Elliot some idea of what King Charles's 
gentlemanly stamp really was. 



CHAELES THE FIEST. 



333 



and King, we might have counted his early Hi-health 
as a piece of real good-fortune for the country which 
he was to govern. Unfortunately, when his increas- 
ing bodily strength enabled him to aspire to the 
physical accomplishments suitable to his age and 
position, he had acquired the taste for, and was 
submitting his mind to, the guidance of far less 
healthy teachers than the great master-spirit of 
English literature. Charles had not been born to 
the position of heir to the Crown ; in his childhood 
he had been to some extent slighted, and he did not 
become a person of real importance in the State 
until the death of his elder brother Henry, when 
he himself was twelve years of age. But he had 
already learnt some of those lessons of self-importance 
and of superiority to ordinary considerations, which 
the literary productions of his own father, as well as 
the teaching of the Churchmen to whose tuition 
James had confided him, were constant in inculcating ; 
and these lessons perhaps gained an additional relish 
from the memories of his own early insignificance. 
His mind had been prepared for the application of 
these lessons by that early necessity of living very 
much in himself, which had fostered the natural 
reserve of his disposition, and made him still more 
self-centred. Thus disposed, he would learn from 
his tutors, and the books to which they directed him, 
to look upon government as an absolute function of 
the Sovereign, quite as independent of the will of 



334 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the governed as the mass performed by the priest at 
the altar is of the personal participation of the 
worshippers in whose presence and for whose benefit 
it is performed. And however plainly the facts of 
the case were forced on his attention when he 
descended into the arena of practical politics, and 
however often in his personal acts and under peculiar 
circumstances Charles may have seemed to recognise 
facts as such, his mind never really recognised them, 
but recurred to those studies of early life in which 
theory stood for fact, in which facts were ignored, 
and in which truth and falsehood had a distinctive 
significance not with reference to the duties and 
obligations of real life, but to a standard of conscience 
to which those duties were entirely subordinated, and 
by which they were taken into account only so far 
as they did not contravene the conclusions and 
objects of one narrow school of thought. This 
casuistical way of looking at things was peculiarly 
dangerous in the case of a man so reserved by nature 
as Charles. Originally perhaps this reserve was 
little more than the strong reluctance to express his 
views, felt by one who had a difficulty in speaking, 
and was conscious of being in a secondary position 
in the estimation of his auditors. But as he grew up, 
there can be no doubt that the reserve was caused 
much less by self-diffidence than by self-conceit; 
much less by the fear of falling short of the 
intellectual standard of those with whom he 



CHAELES THE EIEST. 



335 



associated, tlian by a profound belief that bis own 
wisdom was so complete already that it conld gain 
nothing from being brought into contact with the 
opinions of other men. From concealing his own 
real thoughts, the step was an easy one to deceiving 
others by giving utterance to sentiments which were 
absolutely untrue as expressions of his real opinions. 
The overt act of a lie seemed frequently the best 
method of incommunicativeness, and the lying of 
Charles differed in this essential point from that of 
Elizabeth, that it did not represent any occasional 
or partial sentiment of his mind, but was entirely 
external to his whole nature, and was justified 
probably to his conscience by the casuistical argu- 
ment that its perpetration was an essential agency 
in a policy which, as a whole, represented his 
real views, and, indeed, to his eyes the cause of 
truth. 

The barrier of truth once overleapt, there was not 
sufficient depth in the moral consciousness of Charles 
to enable him ever to recover the distinction between 
right and wrong on this point. For though his 
mind was much more firmly knit (if I may use the 
expression) than that of his father, and though his 
purposes and his processes of reasoning were much 
more deliberate and sustained, and his whole nature, 
so to say, more uniform than was that of James, his 
intellect was neither comprehensive nor deep. He 
adopted a course of conduct more advisedly and 



336 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

pursued it more steadily, but he was quite as in- 
capable as James of perceiving its necessary issues, 
or of estimating its bearings on other issues and on 
the general relations of affairs. He was as little 
master of the situation, and quite as much at the 
mercy of his own ill- conceived ideas as James, 
though so different in his mode of action. If James 
was carried about by every passing caprice or dis- 
turbing circumstance, and realised nothing sufficiently 
to care to persevere in any course long together, 
Charles became almost as inconstant and tortuous in 
his actions, from the mere fact of being unable to 
perceive the fundamental and fatal discrepancy 
between his general purpose and the strokes of 
policy into which the dictates of a self-satisfied but 
shallow nature were constantly seducing him. Thus, 
when blinded by mortified pride, and carried away 
by the artfully insinuated influence of Yilliers, he 
was seeking to revenge himself on the Spanish Court, 
after his inglorious return from his marriage expe- 
dition, he did not see the dangerous antagonism 
between the policy of popularity-hunting, which he 
pursued in the middle of the year 1624, and the 
spirit in which he had written in the November of 
1621 to his favourite adviser respecting the popular 
leaders in Parliament, — ' I could wish that the King 
would send down a commission here that (if need 
were) such seditious fellows might be made an 
example to others,' — and had laid claim to this 



CHAELES THE FIRST. 337 

piece of advice distinctively c as of niy adding.' 
]STor, again, was he able to perceive the equally 
dangerous discontinuity between this popular course 
which he had so vehemently and recklessly pursued 
at the close of his father's reign, and down to the 
very day of his own accession, and the autocratic 
reserve and one-sided conception of the obligations 
between himself and his people which he adopted 
immediately after this latter event. And, as we 
have seen, there was no true standard of right or 
wrong in his mind to rectify this grave error. 

The same inability to preserve in his mind the 
idea of the essentials of his real and ultimate object, 
joined to an infatuated belief in his own power of 
complicated diplomacy, led to the contradictory 
proposals and projects which he entertained simul- 
taneously during the progress of the great civil 
struggle in which he involved himself. The action 
of Charles alternated between simple and direct op- 
position to the national sentiment, and a multiplicity 
of cunningly devised expedients to obtain the same 
ends through hidden and tortuous channels. Most 
of these expedients were plausible and feasible in 
themselves, but to play with them all at the same 
time, and to manipulate them so as to secure his 
own ends out of their contrariety, required the genius 
of a Eichelieu, which Charles in the blindness of his 
self-esteem believed himself really to possess. Of 
the moral obliquity of such a course in reference to 

z 



338 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

his duties to individuals and to the nation Charles 
was absolutely insensible, and he never imagined 
that those he trifled with or betrayed would see it in 
that light. Nor had he the saving quality which 
had prevented his father, to whom he was superior in 
mental power, from incurring all the ill-effects of his 
ill-advised actions. James had a natural shrewdness, 
which was with him an instinct rather than real 
wisdom, but which often served the purpose of the 
latter. But shrewdness Charles had none. James 
firmly believed in the absolute wisdom of his plans, 
but when the crisis came he gave them up on the 
appearance of danger (though not in time to save his 
dignity), as if no such faith in them had ever existed. 
Charles' faith in himself was more enduring, and 
perhaps never really failed him till that terrible 
moment when President Bradshaw rose to pronounce 
the sentence of the High Court of Justice, and when 
in broken and agitated sentences he first recognised 
the hopelessness of his policy and the reality of his 
danger. Closely connected in its origin with this 
overweening self-confidence, was the sanguine tem- 
perament of Charles. This reasserted itself on the 
smallest encouragement, and on the most unsub- 
stantial grounds. The faintest gleam of prosperity, 
the first indications of success in any favourite 
scheme of policy seemed to upset the balance of his 
mind, and to excite him to the wildest flights of 
imagination. Every obstacle disappeared, every 



CHAELES THE FIRST. 339 

possibility became a certainty in his eyes, and he 
was wholly unable to conceal the existence of this 
delusion from the observation of those whom it would 
have been most desirable to keep in the dark. Under 
its influence the most substantial bases of his policy 
were cast aside as of secondary importance, and the 
work of years was undone in a moment. His de- 
meanour assimilated itself to these false hopes, and 
the arrogant insolence of his nature displayed itself 
in its m©st offensive form. In fact, the manners of 
Charles could as little bear the test of prosperity, 
whether real or imaginary, as could his character. 
He was never so undignified, or showed himself to so 
little advantage, as when he thought himself in an 
assured position, and as independent of events as 
irresponsible to public opinion. Adversity, on the 
contrary, which destroys the morale of many men, or, 
at any rate, impairs their self-respect, and is fatal to 
the ease and dignity of their bearing, exhibited 
Charles in the most favourable light. Seduced to 
complete inaction by inexorable necessity, he was 
saved from the consequences of his own ill-advised 
action. His self-confidence, which in prosperity 
assumed such an unamiable and unattractive form, 
exhibited, under these altered circumstances, all the 
aspect of dignified self-respect. His proud nature 
fell back upon itself, and the ' wise passiveness ' 
thus imposed upon him, became his greatest strength, 
and has proved the best foundation for his reputation 

z 2 



340 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH EINGS. 

in the eyes of posterity. The more complete the 
restraint — the more hopeless his prospects — the more 
helpless his 6 gray discrowned head/ the nobler 
became his bearing — the brighter grew his fame ; 
until at last, on ' that memorable scene ' at White- 
hall, when every earthly hope had vanished, and all 
possibility of weak or unworthy plotting had ceased, 
he was more completely royal in his demeanour, and 
more worthy of our respect than at any other epoch 
of his life. At that moment he dropped the cloak of a 
constitutional king which he had hitherto affected 
to wear, and died with a steady eye, and unfaltering 
tongue, asserting his real creed that c a share in go- 
vernment ' is £ nothing pertaining ' to the People. 

Notwithstanding his early physical debility, Charles 
enjoyed many advantages of circumstance over his 
father. James was always, to a considerable extent, 
a foreigner in England, with habits and modes of 
thought formed in a very different state of society 
from that with which he was brought into contact 
on his accession to the throne of England. Charles, 
though not actually born in England, came to this 
country at so early an age that he was educated in 
English associations, and might be expected to im- 
bibe a considerable amount of English sympathies, 
if not of English prejudices. There was also some- 
thing in common between the serious tone of his 
-mind and the growing sentiment of the age. 
Beyond the circle of courtiers and favourites in 



CHAELES THE FIRST. 341 

which James lived, the spirit of the nation was be- 
coming every year more earnest and more practical 
in its apprehension of great principles and religious 
convictions. That age of idealism was passing away, 
where Sydney and Ealeigh and Devereux and Bacon 
lived at the same time in two worlds, — one of romantic 
perfection, in imagining which they indulged their 
highest aspirations, and satisfied the cravings of 
their deepest moral nature — the other, external and 
common-place, in which they were content to live the 
life and share the morals of the men around them. 
The seventeenth century sought to amalgamate these 
worlds of thought and action, and to bring forth the 
morality of the closet into the walks of daily life. 
The nature of Charles was grave and thoughtful, he 
had fixed ideas on religion and politics, aud he was 
bent, however imperfect and ill-assorted were the 
methods he pursued, on realising those ideas, and on 
bringing the national temperament into conformity 
with them. But to become the director and leader of 
a great national sentiment requires more than the 
possession of a handsome face, a grave and decorous 
bearing, and fair abilities. It demands qualifications 
in which Charles was utterly wanting, — honesty of 
nature as well as honesty of action, magnanimous 
self-command,, unselfishness in at least an intellectual 
point of view, and elevation of spirit. But Charles's 
mind was essentially warped from truthfulness ; he 
could rouse no faith and command no confidence in 



342 ESTIMATES OF' TEE ENGLISH KINGS. 

others, because he had no true principle of truth in 
himself. He had no scruple in deceiving others, 
because he recognised no reciprocal obligations be- 
tween himself and other men. However he might 
disguise it from himself, duty was with him one-sided 
only. jSTor had he any magnanimity. He could 
never forgive a supposed injury, and often he could 
not suppress his continued sense of it, when it was 
most important to his interests so to do. His temper 
was far from being an even one, but, in accordance 
with his nature, it was rather irritable than passionate; 
and to those whom he disliked, or with whom he was 
for the moment annoyed, his language and bear- 
ing were insolent rather than violent. By untimely 
exhibitions of this irritable insolence he sometimes 
marred the effects of a carefully planned system 
of dissimulation, and effaced the memory of all his 
previous insinuating graciousness. Thus his dis- 
simulation failed him exactly when it would have 
served the part of a real virtue, and he reaped all 
the discredit of resorting to it without any of the 
fruits. He was thoroughly selfish in feeling and in 
act, and his selfishness never assumed the shape of 
more than a personal policy. He clung to Yilliers 
alone with faithfulness, because Yilliers represented 
exclusively his supposed personal interests, and 
thoroughly identified himself with the personal 
prejudices of his master. But he distrusted and 
disliked men like Wentworth, who had a real national 



CHAKLES THE FIEST. 343 

policy, in which the King was indeed to be made the 
actuating and absolute mover, but in which the 
King had to conform himself and his personal ca- 
prices to this national policy. He adhered to Angli- 
canism as a branch of his own personal judgment, 
and from a profound sense of the necessary con- 
nection between its existence and his own personal 
power. But when the opportunity seemed to offer 
itself of raising a new Civil War in his own interests, 
he had no scruple in abandoning the Church of 
England (no doubt only temporarily in his own 
mind) to the demands of the Scotch Presbyterians, 
and by so doing destroyed all the moral weight which 
might have attached to his previous dogged refusals 
to grant any concession on this point, when concession 
would have placed him again on the throne of his 
ancestors. Where his own selfish interest seemed to 
him to be in conflict with the position or safety of 
anyone, he sacrificed that person, if unwillingly, at 
any rate with a baseness of spirit which, in a man 
who was physically courageous, betrays an inherent 
lowness of nature. Fortunately for England, he 
could never be long served successfully by really able 
men, for if they succeeded so far as to gain an 
independent reputation, the King, in his short-sighted 
and poor-spirited jealousy, was never easy till he had 
mortified them in the eyes of the world and paralysed 
their action, though at the expense of his own most 
important ends. Men of principle abandoned from 



344 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

time to time the cause of his opponents, and from 
various motives tendered him their services ; but in 
proportion as they were men of principle, their 
influence over his practical counsels was weak and 
uncertain, for they had avowed allegiance to a 
principle, and not to a King. A few good and true- 
hearted men clung to him to the last, and believed in 
him, in the enthusiasm of their loyal devotion to the 
person of a King, and towards these men Charles was 
as true and as generous in spirit as it was compatible 
with his nature to be to anyone, for from their 
unreserved devotion to him personally, they were in 
his eyes part of himself. But he scrupled not to 
sacrifice and dishonour such a true servant as the 
Marquis of Ormond in his disgraceful intrigue with the 
Irish Catholics through the Earl of Glamorgan — for 
Ormond's stead} r adherence to the principles professed 
but in practice abandoned by the King himself, was 
a standing reproach to Charles. In such a case, 
in fact, individuals went for nothing in the eyes of 
Charles. He himself, in his immediate policy, was 
everything. 

Charles was a faithful and uxorious husband to a 
self-willed and unfeeling wife, who had the religion 
and morals of a French woman of rank of the Fronde 
period. But he asserted his independence occasionally 
by refusing to follow her advice exactly where and 
when it would have been beneficial to his interests 
to have complied. He never commanded her re- 



CHAELES THE FIRST. 345 

I spect, and very seldom her sympathies, and she soon 
found consolation for the little grief or remorse she 
I may have felt for his death in a private marriage 
with a recognised lover. As a father, the conduct of 
Charles was irreproachable, and here it is that the 
sympathies of Englishmen gather most warmly and 
most justifiably around him. Here the ice of his 
character gave way, and his strongest opponents were 
moved and staggered in their belief in his falseness 
by the natural emotion he displayed in his interviews 
with his unfortunate younger children. Nor can the 
charge of deliberate cruelty sometimes preferred 
against him be sustained, except in a few cases of 
personal vengeance. If he erred on this point, it was 
in indifference to sufferings caused indirectly through 
his conduct. Yet by his conduct he inflicted miseries 
on England which bade fair to demoralise an entire 
generation. He was trained in a bad school, but he 
cannot escape on the most charitable psychological 
interpretation of his conduct from a large amount of 
personal moral responsibility for conscious and deli- 
berate evil-doing under the influence of an unscruplous 
and selfish ambition. Yet, after all, it is the absence 
of generous feelings and noble motives which lowers 
the stamp of the character of Charles the First below 
that of many Sovereigns who have actually done far 
worse things, and which makes the historical student, 
in proportion as his studies are deep and long-con- 
tinued, turn away from the contemplation of him 



346 ESTIMATES OP * THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

with sentiments of increasing aversion, and feel an 
increasing conviction that, whatever judgment we 
may pass on the men who condemned him to die the 
death of a Traitor to the People of England, they 
had at least this fact to justify them in their verdict, 
that Charles had really been a traitor to some of the 
most solemn trusts for which man is responsible, had 
shown himself to be false and faithless in nearly 
every public relation, and had forfeited all claim to 
be called a good man, while he must unhesitatingly 
be adjudged a weak and bad King. 



347 



OLIVER, LORD PROTECTOR. 

I offer no apology for preferring fact to pedantic 
prejudice, and inserting the name of the Lord Pro- 
tector, Oliver, among the Sovereigns of England, 
though he did not bear the title of King, and 
reached the supreme government of this country by 
a very different process from the ordinary rule of 
hereditary succession. 

Great as have been the diversities in the moral 
estimates of Oliver Cromwell put forth from time 
to time by authors of standard authority, and by 
orators of established reputation, the national senti- 
ment has never quite acquiesced in the reprobation 
which has been the predominant feature of these 
moral judgments, but has insisted on retaining, not- 
withstanding all that was alleged against him on 
other grounds, a more or less covert admiration for 
him as one who raised England to a high position 
among the nations of Europe. The memory of this 
achievement, revived and strengthened by the igno- 
minious events of the period succeeding the Eesto- 
ration of the Stuarts, has stood the reputation of 



348 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Oliver in good stead against the calumnies of a 
period of triumphant reaction, and has almost proved 
a match, in its purely traditionary form, for the 
worst depreciations of party prejudice and eccle- 
siastical rancour. Wherever the sentimental con- 
ception of the character of Charles the First has not 
been paramount, there has always been a certain 
sympathy for his most determined opponent ; but it 
was not till the present century that anything like 
a critical attempt was made to ascertain the real 
character of the man whose reputation had, up to 
that time, been a strange mixture of traditionary 
respect and profound horror. Much still remains to 
be done, so far as concerns explanatory details, but 
the broad features of the character can now be traced 
with tolerable certainty, and the theories which are 
irreconcilable with established facts can now be in- 
dicated with some assurance. 

6 I called not myself to this place,' Oliver declared 
to his first Parliament ; 6 1 say again, I called not 
myself to this place ! of that God is witness ; and I 
have many witnesses who, I do believe, could lay 
down their lives bearing witness to the truth of 
that, — namely, that I called not myself to this place. 
And being in it, I bear not witness to myself, but 
God and the people of these nations have also borne 
testimony to it. If my calling be from God, and my 
testimony from the people, God and the people shall 
take it from me, else I will not part with it. I 



OLIVEK, LOED PEOTECTOE. 349 

should be false to the trust that God hath placed in 
me, and to the interest of the people of these Nations 
if I did.' With this emphatic declaration he pre- 
faces a brief but interesting statement, in his im- 
pressive though unpremeditated and inartistic style 
of speaking, full of earnest and solemn appeals to the 
corroborative knowledge of many of his hearers, and 
of an omniscient God, as to the successive steps by 
which he had risen to the position of Protector, in 
vindication of the motives of his actions, and the 
basis of his authority. According to the truth or 
falsehood of this declaration, then, and to his own 
actual belief in its truth, the character of the Pro- 
tector must in a great measure stand or fall, and our 
decision between the conflicting reputations of him 
as an ambitious and designing hypocrite and a true- 
hearted and honest man must be really determined. 
I shall therefore carefully keep this expository state- 
ment in mind in this attempt to analyse the man 
from whose lips it proceeded. 

Oliver Cromwell, as is now well known, was the 
son of a gentleman living in the quiet little town of 
Huntingdon, and who was the younger son of the 
head of a county family of considerable landed pos- 
sessions, obtained from the favour of Henry the 
Eighth. Whether Oliver's father added to a mode- 
rate income by the proceeds of a brewing business in 
Huntingdon is more than doubtful, but in any case he 
not only took a leading part in the municipal affairs 



350 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

of the town, but lived close to the principal seat of his 
family, and was on friendly terms with his elder 
brother. All the connections, collaterally or by 
marriage, of Oliver's family, were also with connty 
and landed families, so that he is fully justified in 
the first words of his statement just referred to, — c I 
was by birth a gentleman, living neither in any con- 
siderable height, nor yet in obscurity.' The life and 
daily influences of a small borough, then, modified 
and supplemented by close connection and frequent 
association with the life of landed proprietors, con- 
stituted the social atmosphere in which the character 
of Oliver was developed during his earlier years. 
Such a combination of social influences would tend 
in any case towards breadth of social vision, and im- 
munity from the narrower prejudices of both country 
and town. From the first his station rested on the 
two principal bases on which English society is built 
up, and he was thus naturally qualified, should his 
capacity be equal to his opportunities, to become an 
interpreter of each of these classes to the other, and 
the intelligent moderator and ruler of both. The 
education of a borough grammar-school was supple- 
mented, in his case, by the collegiate and probably 
the legal studies of a member of the gentry class. 
He went to school with the future corporation and 
townsmen of Huntingdon, he mixed at Cambridge 
with the future landed proprietors and legislators of 
all England, and in London came into contact with 



OLIVEE, LOED PKOTECTOE. 351 

the living heart of the age. When he returned to 
his native town, and settled down there in the 
character of a young husband and householder, his 
social and civic training was already a more than 
usually complete one, and he soon afterwards fell 
under a religious influence still more powerful and 
significant. At what period exactly his character was 
first affected in this direction we have no means 
of ascertaining. The stories which have long been 
inserted in ordinary biographies respecting his early 
debauchery and ruinous extravagance are quite in- 
consistent with each other, and with the chronology 
of the established facts of his early life ; and the 
strong and remorseful language in which he himself 
refers to his former religious indifference, and which 
has been supposed to corroborate these stories, does 
not by any means necessarily bear this interpretation. 
All that we need infer is that, up to a certain epoch, 
Oliver paid little attention to the deeper and more 
serious questions which are connected with the rela- 
tions between God and man, and which are insepa- 
rable from all real self-knowledge and knowledge of 
other men, and an acquaintance with which is the 
spring of all the higher impulses of human action. 
His higher nature remained stagnant and unde- 
veloped, his morality was merely conventional, and 
his actions, if blameless in themselves, were guided 
only by secondary and external considerations. He 
accepted his morality and his religious creed from 



352 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

his family and neighbours, and lie conformed his 
actions to the ordinary and customary standards of 
the society in which he lived. The well-springs of 
his own nature had never been drawn from, and his 
own life had in fact not yet commenced. How the 
change did commence — whether the self- evolution 
was convulsive but gradual, as his own expressions 
seem rather to indicate, and like the struggles into 
consciousness and renewed life of a man recovering 
from drowning ; or whether it was a sudden revela- 
tion of unstirred forces, and unrecognised responsi- 
bilities ; whether the dawning to the perfect day was 
slow, and often dimmed by the mists and vapours of 
departing night, or whether the gleam of light from 
above which disclosed the truth, and the conviction 
of that truth were simultaneous — we can only con- 
jecture. All that we know is, that the revolution 
seriously affected his bodily health, and for a time 
seemed to threaten the subversion of the intellect 
itself. The depths and capabilities of the nature 
thus aroused were indeed so great that the mind of 
the man himself reeled under this new birth. Dr. 
Simcott, of Huntingdon, and Sir Theodore Mayerne, 
the Court physician in London, both prescribed for 
him as a hypochondriac. Gradually, however, his 
mind became clearer and more composed. The 
exaggerated and .overwhelming sense of past alie- 
nation from God gradually gave way to an earnest 
reliance on the active assistance and guardianship of 



OLIVER, LORD PROTECTOR. 353 

Divine Love, which he never again lost in all the 
trials of his subsequent career. His bodily constitu- 
tion, also, though perhaps never fundamentally strong, 
and undermined by the unhealthy air of the Fens, 
became outwardly robust, and capable, under the 
influence of a powerful will, of undergoing a great 
amount of physical exertion. 

One of those who bad been attached to his house- 
hold when he was Lord Protector, Mr. John Maidston, 
writing to Governor Winthrop, in New England, 
at the end of March, 1660, when the Presbyterian 
Members had resumed their seats in the Long Parlia- 
ment, under the authority of Monk, and the Resto- 
ration was no longer doubtful, has given a most 
striking delineation of Oliver, as he knew him, or as 
he appeared to him. c His body,' he says, e was well- 
compact and strong, his stature under six foot (I 
believe about two inches), his head so shaped as you 
might see it a storehouse and shop both of a vast 
treasury of natural parts. 5 The Eoyalist, Sir Philip 
Warwick, recalling in later years his recollection of 
the first time when he saw Oliver at the commence- 
ment of the Long Parliament, speaks of his ' stature ' 
as c of a good size, his countenance swollen and red- 
dish, his voice sharp and untunable, and his elo- 
quence full of fervour,' and complains that he was 
e very much, hearkened unto. 5 The portrait painted 
by Sir Peter Lely towards the close of Oliver's life,, 
which appears to me to correspond best to my con- 

A A 



354 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

ception of the real man, is quite in harmony with 
Maidston's description, and lends strength to the 
theory as to the original from whom Milton drew 
his portrait of Adam : — 

His fair large front and eye sublime declar'd 
Absolute rule ; and hyacinthine locks 
Round from his parted forelock manly hung 
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad. 

The massive breadth of the forehead, and the large 
roughly-cut nose give an impression of intellectual 
ability and natural leadership, which is confirmed and 
yet modified in its character by the other features 
of the countenance. The eyes, full of composed and 
deep thoughtfulness, yet concentrated and imperative 
in their almost threatening look of searching scrutiny, 
seem to intimate the same poise of the intellect and 
the emotions which is expressed by the fall, firm, 
nervous mouth and powerfully rounded chin, in which, 
with all their strength, there is not a touch of sinister 
hardness, or insolent brutality. The impression left 
by the face as a whole is of well-ordered though pas- 
sionate force of character ; and the feeling it is calcu- 
lated to inspire is not that of terrified aversion, but 
of deep and overpowering awe. To such a man as 
this picture seems to portray, it would be very difficult 
to say no ; but there is that in the face which appears 
also to warrant the conviction that moral courage 
would be the safest and readiest road to his sympathy 
and protection. It is the face of one with whom 
absolute authority was an incident of his nature, 



OLIVER, LORD PROTECTOR. 355 

rather than an impulse of personal will — who was an 
instinctive rather than a voluntary autocrat. That 
this instinct of command was a leading characteristic 
of Oliver, of the existence of which he was himself 
from time to time even painfully conscious, and from 
the opportunities and necessity of which he often 
struggled to escape as from a temptation, no one 
who has studied his actions at all deeply can entertain 
a doubt. An unfriendly writer testifies to the earnest- 
ness with which he endeavoured to dissuade Fairfax 
from his obstinate resolution to surrender the chief 
command of the army on the breach with the Scotch 
Covenanters when they proclaimed the King of Scots. 
And I believe that his own declaration to his first 
Protectoral Parliament as to his conduct after the 
crowning victory at Worcester is quite true : c I say 
to you, I hoped to have had leave to retire to a pri- 
vate life. I begged to be dismissed of my charge ; 
I begged it again and again; and God be Judge 
between me and all men, if I lie in this matter. 
That I lie not in matter of fact, is known to very 
many; but whether I tell a lie in my heart, as 
labouring to represent to you what was not upon 
my heart, I say, the Lord be Judge ! Let uncha- 
ritable men, who measure others by themselves, 
judge as they please ! But I could not obtain what 
my soul longed for. 5 He affirms — and, I believe, 
with equal truth — the same desire to have been a 
main cause of his summoning the ' Little Parliament* 

A A 2 



356 ESTHfATES OF' THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

after the dissolution of the Long Parliament. e A 
chief end to myself was to lay down the power which 
Was in my hands. I say to yon again, in the presence 
of that God who hath blessed and been with me in 
all my adversities and successes, thai was as to my- 
self my greatest end ! A desire, perhaps, I am afraid 
sinful enough, to be quit of the power God had most 
clearly by his Providence put into my hands, before 
lie called me to lay it down, before these honest ends 
of our fighting were attained and settled ! I say the 
authority I had in my hand, being so boundless as it 
was. By Act of Parliament I was Lord General of all 
the Forces in the three nations of England, Scotland, 
and Ireland .... in which unlimited condition I 
did not desire to live a day.' His answer to a letter 
from Cardinal Mazarin, written at this crisis, testifies 
curiously how fruitlessly he endeavoured to reduce 
himself in his Own eyes to the position of & simple 
private individual, and to hold back his hand from 
the guiding helm of State. 

But although he retained, as a rule, the control 
over his autocratic inclination, or by convulsive 
efforts sought to relieve himself from its temptations, 
in all probability the decisions and actions of his life 
were more or less affected by it, and at times were, 
under its influence, warped from the standard of 
justice and right. Passing over the doubtful case of 
his forcible dissolution of the Long Parliament, in 
which he acted, no doubt, whether justifiably or not, 



OLIVEE, LOBD PSOTECTOE. 357 

on the impulse of the moment, and without any 
clearly premeditated design, and the terrible scene at 
Drogheda, as to which his own despatch to the 
Speaker shows evident moral -misgivings, we seem to 
trace the occasional predominance of the impatient 
spirit of conscious ability in some of those arbitrary 
acts dnring his Protectorate, in which he sacrificed 
the privileges of his Parliaments and the liberties 
of individuals to the professed necessities of the 
situation. A good deal may be urged with plausi- 
bility in defence of these questionable proceedings, 
and in proof that the necessity was real and urgent ; 
but they nevertheless leave behind, on the mind of an 
impartial observer, a suspicion that their real expla- 
nation lies in the autocratic and passionate nature of 
the Protector himself, which sometimes broke through 
the restraints of his better judgment, and sometimes 
created the very necessity which in his self-deception 
he alleged as his excuse. To such cases, and similar 
backslidings on other points from the moral standard 
by which he professed to be actuated, and to which, 
I believe, his actions were generally conformed, the 
remark applies with which Maidston concludes his 
discriminating estimate already alluded to : — c He 
lived and died in comfortable communion with God, 
as judicious persons near him well observed. He 
was that Mordecai that sought the welfare of his 
people and spake peace to his seed. Yet were his 
temptations such, as it appeared frequently that he 



358 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

"that had grace enough for many men, may have too 
little for himself, the treasure he had being but in 
an earthen vessel, and that equally defiled with ori- 
ginal sin as any other man's nature is.' The exact 
proportion between the temptations resisted and the 
temptations yielded to in the case of Oliver Cromwell 
can, of course, never be satisfactorily determined, 
nor do I pretend to draw either a perfect ruler or a 
faultless man ; but it is important to observe that one 
who saw the failures, had no doubt at the same time 
as to the general bias of the character. c His temper 
was exceeding fiery,' Maidston himself says, 'as I 
have known, but the flame of it kept down, for the 
most part, or soon allayed with those moral endow- 
ments he had. He was naturally compassionate 
towards objects in distress, even to an effeminate 
measure ; though God had made him a heart wherein 
was left little room for any fear but what was due to 
himself, of which there was a large proportion, yet did 
he exceed in tenderness towards sufferers. A larger 
soul, I think, hath seldom dwelt in a house of clay 
than his was. I do believe, if his story were impar- 
tially transmitted^, and the unprejudiced world well 
possessed with it, she would add him to her nine 
worthies, and make np that number a Decemviri. 9 
The temptations of a period of revolution to a man 
who is conscious of the capacity to govern are so 
great, that no one who has not examined into the 
credibility of the evidence which is often thought to 



OLIVEE, LORD PEOTECTOE. 359 

afford convincing proof of the designing and selfish 
ambition of Oliver, and has seen it again and again 
disappear on an application of the ordinary tests of 
truth and falshood, can acquire that confidence in the 
general rectitude and anxious disinterestedness of 
his conduct which can entitle him to regard the devi- 
ations from right as the marked exceptions to the 
general rule, and to pronounce a favourable moral 
verdict on the character of the man as a whole. Such 
a verdict however may, I believe, be safely given in 
the case of Oliver Cromwell. In contrast with 
the almost single case of apparent cruelty and blood- 
thirstiness at the capture of Drogheda, stand not 
only repeated acts of clemency and compassion, but 
the testimony of his most prejudiced opponents as to 
his general aversion to cruelty and to blood- shedding, 
and his habitual magnanimity. Those only will 
render the decision doubtful as to his moral estima- 
tion who insist on attributing to him an ideal cha- 
racter of pure faultlessness, at the expense of the 
reputation of all the great men with whom he came 
into political collision, and of the dictates of justice 
and humanity. 

This general predominance of self-restraint and 
moderation in the conduct of Oliver was greatly aided 
by another quality of his natural disposition, which 
those have lost sight of who rest his claims to admi- 
ration on the commanding influences of a strong will. 
Though his imperial capacity might sometimes make 



360 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

hini impatient of opposition and mismanagement, lie 
possessed also, in a large measure, the moderation and 
the patience which spring from a wide and far-sighted 
perception of the situation in all its aspects. The 
same power which enabled him to apprehend so 
quickly and so justly the true ends to be pursued, 
and the best ways to those ends, gave him also a 
sympathetic insight into the different light in which 
the same questions might present themselves to the 
minds and feelings of other men equally conscientious 
and equally eager to achieve the same substantial 
end. Seldom, if ever, has so emotional a nature, so 
strong a will, and so consciously superior an intellect 
been so tolerant of the weakness and hesitations of 
others. A natural insight into character, slightly 
weakened, perhaps, by a leaning towards the most 
charitable construction of doubtful features, gave him 
a power of appealing to common feelings and aspira- 
tions in those whose outward action was most inhar- 
monious with his own. Strong in himself, he pre- 
ferred to disarm rather than to crush opposition. The 
prominence of the few occasions on which he overcame 
his opponents by an appeal to force has misled readers 
of history into the idea that this was his habitual 
mode of action ; and many eloquent words have been 
wasted both on his supposed heroic contempt for 
formularies and shams, and on the baseness of the 
triumph in his success of brute force over thoughtful 
conscientiousness. But, in fact, with the capacity 



OLIVER, LOSE PEOTECTOE. 361 

and natural impulses of an autocrat, Oliver possessed 
the truest appreciation of the inferiority intellectually 
as well as morally of Force to Eeason. A resort to 
the former he always regarded as a confession 
of weakness, as mortifying to his own intellectual 
pride as it was distasteful to his keen moral percep- 
tions, and which, if resorted to through supposed 
necessity, was to be renounced at the earliest oppor- 
tunity. No one would have sympathised more 
heartily with the exclamation attributed to the great 
Italian statesman of this century, in his last mo- 
ments : 'X will have no state of siege [i.e. martial 
law] . Any fool can govern with that ! ' Writers on 
history, while dwelling on his violent and arbitrary 
acts, have forgotten to observe the numberless cases 
in which he eschewed the violence, and shrank from 
the absolutism. To him who studies history in its 
processes as well as in its results, a close consideration 
of the events of the period from the King's flight from 
Oxford, in the spring of 1646, to the fatal scene at 
Whitehall in January, 1649, or again, from Worces- 
ter fight to the violent scene at Westminster, will 
reveal in Oliver Cromwell an amount of wise patience 
and self-denying forbearance unequalled in the case 
of any man similarly placed. Or, turning to the very 
point on which his character as a statesman as well 
as a lover of constitutional freedom may be most easily 
assailed — his treatment of his own Parliaments — do 
we not recognise, in the very existence of those sue- 



362 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

cessive Parliaments, the strongest indication of the 
spirit of a constitutional statesman ? If he failed, or, 
rather, had not at the time of his death succeeded in 
his attempts to create a Representative assembly of 
the nation, which might share and not monopolise the 
seats of legislature and judicature, and which, on the 
other hand, might secure the foundations of society 
in a different spirit from that of a blind supporter of 
old abuses or of a religious persecutor, we ought not 
to ignore the wisdom and foresight which saw in his 
own absolute authority only a transitional necessity, 
which never ceased to seek expedients by which it 
might be safely resigned, and preferred the mortifi- 
cations and immediate dangers of his reiterated ex- 
periments to the immediate security and the already 
assured popularity of an uncontrolled personal govern- 
ment. It is this voluntary preference of mixed and 
limited government to absolutism, under any name, 
however specious, that constitutes the specific cha- 
racteristic of Oliver as a Civil Ruler, and which pre- 
serves the moral identity of the man who opposed and 
overthrew the selfish and ineradicable despotism of 
Charles the First, with the man who himself subse- 
quently dissolved and decimated Parliaments, and 
violated the personal freedom of the subject. It was 
a certain perception of this identity which rendered 
Oliver's most arbitrary proceedings endurable, and 
even not distasteful to the great body of the English 
nation, and created that general confidence in his 



OLIVEK, LOED PROTECTOR. 363 

purposes as well as his ability, which justified him 
in basing his authority on the will of the People as 
well as the special call of God. 

But the moderating influence which, probably more 
than anything else, kept in check the strong will and 
conscious capacity for government of Oliver Cromwell 
was the conviction which he entertained that he 
was only an instrument in the hand of God, and 
that it was even more a crime to anticipate the 
leadings of Providence than it was wilfully to 
disregard them. He was fully impressed with the 
belief that it was the duty of the ablest man to wait 
patiently for the manifestation of the occasion for 
his especial work in this world, while his equally 
strong belief that, should he engage in any merely 
selfish and uninvited undertaking, the protecting 
power of God would be withdrawn from him operated 
to a great extent to restrain any natural tendency to 
interpret as a call from Heaven the mere promptings 
of his own ambition. A character which is actuated 
by guiding ideas such as these requires indeed the 
background and substratum of a strong understand- 
ing, a clear head, and an extensive knowledge of men 
and things, to prevent it from degenerating into that 
of a Fanatic. But in Oliver the Puritan ideal of a 
practical faith realised in the affairs of ordinary life 
was so entirely paramount, that it was impossible for 
him to dissociate the lessons of worldly wisdom of 
that school in which he was being daily taught from 



364 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the* higher principles and impulses of his spiritual- 
life. Both blended in every judgment he formed; 
and in what is considered to be the contrariety of 
the natural tendencies of each lay the strength and 
security of the conclusions which he drew from their 
combination. 

The same width of view and discernment of the 
realities of things which harmonised his worldly 
wisdom and his higher promptings in the greater 
affairs of life, gave him also a true perception of the 
relations of what are called worldly pleasures to the 
higher nature of man, and raised him as much above 
the asceticism of a religious enthusiast as above the 
careless licentiousness of the jovial Cavalier. His 
advice to his son Richard, in a letter to Richard's 
wife, is to £ be above the pleasures of this life, and 
outward business, and then you shall have the true 
use and comfort of them, and not otherwise,' and by 
this rule he regulated his own social habits. He had 
naturally a strong sense of humour. 'Oliver loves 
an innocent jest,' says one of his soldiers, and his 
daily life, as well as his letters, breathe a spirit of 
manly cheerfulness. He had received a good educa- 
tion, and he maintained and carried out the studies 
to which he had been thus introduced. He directs 
the attention of his son Richard to the study of his- 
tory and mathematics and ' cosmography,' and he 
recommends in particular Raleigh's c History of the 
World ' as being c & body of history,' and therefore 



OLIVEE, LOED PEOTECTOE. 365 

more instructive than mere fragments. These pur- 
suits, he adds, i fit for public services, for which a 
man is born.' Contemporaries tell us of the 6 noble 
library' that he formed, and one who was present 
bears testimony that Oliver was more than a match 
for the Scotch Commissioners at their own dialec- 
tic arguments from Mariana and Buchanan. He 
was a warm friend to the two older Universities, and 
the planner of a new one at Durham for the 
northern counties. He sought out and he was the 
generous patron or considerate friend of the best 
scholars and most cultivated men of the age, indepen- 
dently of party or personal prejudice. The arts of 
painting and music were both appreciated and pa- 
tronised by him, and of the latter he was so fond that 
it might almost seem as if here we had something of 
the blood of the Welsh Williams, from whom he was 
said to be descended. He could discriminate between 
the use and abuse of dramatic representations, and 
Davenant received especial permission to perform 
his comedies under his protection. In the aid which 
he gave to the publication of Walton's Polyglot Bible 
he showed that, with all his devotion to the words of 
Scripture, he was superior to the weak misgivings of 
some of the most eminent of the Puritan divines as 
to the unsettlement of the text. His tastes and his 
appreciations were as broad as his sympathies, and 
as a consequence he drew around his person the best 



36G ESTIMATES OF *THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

men, and from their ranks filled his councils and the 
general administration of the three kingdoms. 

The breadth of mind which was the source of 
Oliver's wonderful patience and consideration for 
others made him also incapable of retaining resent- 
ment to those who had been his personal opponents, 
and even induced him to regard with kindly tolerance 
those who were most opposed to him in political 
matters, as soon as the crisis had passed which ren- 
dered a hostile attitude towards them necessary on 
his part. He not only acted in the spirit of that 
piece of worldly advice, always to treat your enemy 
of to-day as if he might become your friend of to- 
morrow, but could go further, and regard with com- 
placency the continued spirit of hostility as long as 
it did not force itself on his notice in the shape of 
acts of aggression ; and even then his endurance was 
great if the motives of the aggressor, though mis- 
taken, were disinterested. Among all the charges 
which have been brought against him there is none 
of revengeful implacability. He knew too well the 
force of early circumstances, and of the bias of natu- 
ral character, ever to pass the same condemnation 
on the men themselves that he pronounced on their 
principles and the cause they espoused. As soon as 
they ceased to be immediately dangerous, they ceased 
also with him to be objects of any personal dislike. 
The one great idea of pursuing the work to which 



0L1VEE, LOKD PEOTECTOE. 367 

he believed he had been specially called was with 
him so over-mastering, that what was personal to 
himself seemed transitory and unimportant. It was 
observed by an attendant on his last hours, that he 
was then so carried away by solicitude for the future 
welfare of the nation, whose highest interests he be- 
lieved had been entrusted to his care, that he seemed 
in his prayers to forget entirely his own family. And 
this was the case with a man whose domestic affec- 
tions were, it is universally admitted, strong in no 
ordinary degree. 

It is scarcely necessary for me to do more than 
simply advert to that religious toleration which found 
in Oliver Cromwell, from that same largeness of 
mind and sympathies, one of its most determined 
and consistent advocates. He had that rare faculty 
in a strong believer of recognising the right of others 
to believe differently from himself, and he not only 
guided all his earlier career by this principle, but 
made it the foundation of his subsequent government, 
and the key-stone of his foreign policy. As he him- 
self said, ' God give us hearts and spirits to keep 
things equal ! which truly, I must profess to you, 
hath been my temper. I have had some boxes and 
rebukes on the one hand, and, on the other, some 
censuring me for Presbytery, others as an inletter to 
all the sects and heresies of the nation. I have borne 
my reproach, but I have, through God's mercy, not 



368 ESTIMATES OF* THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

been unhappy in hindering any one religion to impose 
upon another. 5 Even in the case of Eoman Catholics, 
where the strongest prejudices of his early training 
and the complication of ultramontane pretensions 
embarrassed the question, and suggested doubts of 
the applicability of this great principle, the progress 
of time and the lessons of an enlarged experience 
taught him much, and in his own words to Cardinal 
Mazarin, e I have of some, and those very many, had 
compassion, making a difference. Truly I have made 
a difference and, as Jude speaks, "snatched many 
out of the fire," the raging fire of persecution, which 
did tyrannise over their consciences, and encroached 
by an arbitrariness of power upon their estates. 
And herein it is my purpose, as soon as I can remove 
impediments and some weights that press me down, 
to make some further progress.' 

Of the general government of the Lord Protector 
it is not necessary to say much. Its merits have 
been recognised even by the strongest political op- 
ponents, and those who were most prejudiced against 
his character have acknowledged that his rule only 
wanted the stamp of legitimacy to entitle it to nearly 
unmixed praise. There is scarcely a subject, indeed, to 
which modern legislation has been applied, to which 
the hand or the eye of the Protector will not be found 
to have been directed, and on which the principles 
laid down and partly carried into practice by him, 



OLIVEK, LOED PEOTECTOK. 369 

have not now been adopted. He was wise before his 
age, but he was also wise with a full consideraiton of 
the feelings and requirements of his age. He might 
anticipate like a philosopher, but he acted as a 
practical though far-seeing statesman. At home 
many men might detest the foundations of his au- 
thority, but they felt confidence in the justice and 
wisdom of his administration, while abroad he was 
feared and respected by all. Had he lived a little 
longer, there seems every probability that the wise 
eclecticism which he had adopted alike in his advocacy 
of principles and in his choice of men, would have 
consolidated around his throne a party, bound to- 
gether by sympathies more enduring than the 
transient ties of party and dogmatic antecedents, 
and comprising within its ranks the representative 
elements of what was most influential and sterling 
in the national character, which, under his guiding 
mind, would have commanded more and more en- 
tirely the national confidence. For such an ad- 
ministration, whatever its shortcomings might have 
been in practice, the animating principle laid down 
by their great chief must have secured a certain 
elevation of spirit and a certain depth of root. ' A 
thing I am confident our liberty and prosperity 
depend upon — Eeformation. Make it a shame to see 
men bold in sin and profaneness, and God will bless 
you. You will be a blessing to the nation ; and by 

B B 



370 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

this will be more repairers of breaches than by any- 
thing in the world. Truly, these things do respect 
the sonls of men, and the spirits — which are the men. 
The mind is the man. If that be kept pure, a man 
signifies somewhat ; if not, I would very fain see what 
difference there is between him and a beast. He 
hath only some activity to do some more mischief.' 



371 



RICHARD, LORD PROTECTOR. 

We have had occasion to notice more than once how 
unfavourable to greatness, or at least the recognition 
of greatness, is the position of the son of a dis- 
tinguished man. The continuity of genius which 
seems to be expected is seldom carried out, for even 
if the amount of ability in the second generation at 
all approaches that in the preceding, it is often of so 
different a type that public expectation is almost as 
much disappointed as if there had been no succession 
of ability at all. In the case of Eichard Cromwell, 
however, there was an entire absence of genius in 
any form, and the effect of the contrast which is 
naturally suggested between him and his father has 
been such, that he has been denied the possession of 
even the amount of mental acquirements to which he 
can really lay claim. The circumstance that he was 
the least energetic, if not also the least able, of the 
sons of the Protector Oliver would not, perhaps, have 
been so fatal to his qualifications for retaining the 
supreme power in the kingdom, if he had been from 
the first the eldest son. But two brothers who 

B B 2 



372 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

attained to youth and early manhood enjoyed succes- 
sively this position before their death made Eichard 
the heir of the family. Robert, the eldest son, as 
Mr. Porster has proved, did not die till May, 1639, 
when he was in his eighteenth year; Oliver, the 
second son, certainly survived long enough to take a 
commission in the Parliamentary Army when he 
had nearly completed his twentieth year, and not 
improbably lived for some years longer. .Eichard 
was nearly four years younger than this second eldest 
son, and at the time of the breaking out of the Civil 
War was only a boy who had not completed his six- 
teenth year. Writers have speculated very much as 
to the cause of his not taking a more active part in 
the events of the Civil War, forgetting how young he 
was ; and unless he had exhibited a marked amount 
of enterprise and capacity, it is not likely that there 
would be any attempt made to put forward prema- 
turely a younger son. The first Civil War, indeed, 
which was the one the exigencies of which might 
have demanded his active co-operation, ended before 
he was twenty. His eldest brother Eobert had been 
the favourite and hope of his father, and the younger 
Oliver must then, as the soldier head of the family 
and the Protector's companion in his campaigns, 
have necessarily held the first place. Eichard, natu- 
rally unaspiring, and contented with the happy life 
he led in the home circle and the mixed society of 
London, was not likely to thrust himself on the 



KICHAKD, LOED PEOTECTOE. 373 

attention of his father, wrapped up as the latter 
was in the absorbing affairs of public life. It seems 
unlikely that/ he was that son of Lieutenant-General 
Cromwell who is described as being, in October, 
1647, ' Captain of the General's Life Guard,' or the 
c other son ' who is mentioned as then ' captain of a 
troop in Colonel Harrison's regiment,' for in the May 
of that year, when nearly twenty-one years of age, 
he was entered at Lincoln's Inn (Thurloe, his future 
Secretary of State, being one of his sureties), — and 
there had been no special call to active service in the 
meantime. His father's serious attention was pro- 
bably first directed to him when negotiations for a 
marriage were entered into on his behalf at the be- 
ginning of the year 1648 — first, with the Hungerfords, 
and afterwards (successfully) with the Maiiors of 
Hursley, in Hampshire. Till that time his character 
would be of secondary importance, and he would be 
ooked upon in his family as a mere boy. From the 
fact of the negotiations being in behalf of Richard, 
young Oliver seems to have been already dead. The 
attention of the father was then drawn to the fact 
that Richard, whatever were his merits, was wholly 
wanting in that weight of character which befitted, 
in his opinion, every Englishman, and which certainly 
he would wish to see in any son of his own, and par- 
ticularly in the future head of the family. This 
made him, no doubt, especially careful as to the 
choice he made for his son — the offer of the Hunger- 



374 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

fords, a family half Eoyalist, lialf Presbyterian, 
though much greater than that of the Maiiors, being 
rejected on account of ' difference of ties,' and not 
the same 6 assurance of godliness ' in parents and 
daughter. The negotiation with Mr. Maiior, how- 
ever, was a protracted one, being much interrupted 
by the campaign of 1648, as well as by the necessity 
of providing in the marriage arrangements against 
evil days in a family so precariously situated as that 
of the Cromwells. But Eichard, we learn from his 
father's letters, had * a great desire to come down 
and wait . on ' Dorothy Maiior, and e minded that 
more than to attend to business ' at home ; Oliver 
himself was desirous to complete the matter before 
he started on his Irish campaign, and on the 1st 
of May, 1649, the marriage was solemnized. The 
letters which passed during the succeeding years in 
the new family circle thus formed give us the only 
insight we possess into Richard's character at this 
period of his life. I have already referred to the 
advice conveyed in one or two of these letters respect- 
ing his pursuits and mode of life, and we have seen how 
his father endeavoured to rouse him to a stronger 
sense of the demands of his situation in life and to 
the higher purposes of existence. In the midst of 
his most serious affairs of State, Oliver never ceases 
to reiterate his counsels, and to repeat his entreaties 
to Mr. Maiior to second his efforts with Eichard. 
< Idleness ' seems to be the established characteristic 



EICHAED, LOED PROTECTOR 375 

of the latter in his father's eyes, who, however, writes 
playfully rather than seriously on that point. He 
was not without some encouragement in his efforts — 
some letters from Eichard ' had a good savour,' — the 
father ' took them kindly, and liked expressions when 
they came plainly from the heart, and were not 
strained or affected ; ' but he ' needed good counsel ; 
he was in the dangerous time of his age, and it 
was a very vain world. 5 Oliver uses every variety of 
tone, from the most playful banter to the most 
solemn adjuration, and endeavours to enlist Dorothy 
also in the efforts he is making for her husband's 
guidance. But Richard, though excellent in his 
intentions, was careless and extravagant; he got 
into debt and borrowed money from his father-in-law, 
and in the middle of the year 1651 his conduct 
elicited the following observations from his father 
addressed to Mr. Maiior : — £ I hear my son hath ex- 
ceeded his allowance, and is in debt. Truly I cannot 
commend him therein ; wisdom requiring his living 
within compass, and calling for it at his hands. And, 
in my judgment, the reputation arising from thence 
would have been more real honour than what is at- 
tained the other way. I believe vain men will speak 
well of him that does ill; I desire to be understood 
that I grudge him not laudable recreations, nor an 
honourable carriage of himself in them ; nor is any 
matter of charge like to fall to my share a stick with 
me. Truly I can find in my heart to allow him not 



376 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

only a sufficiency, but more for his good. But if 
pleasure and self-satisfaction be made the business 
of a man's life, so much cost laid out upon it, so 
much time spent on it, as rather answers appetite 
than the will of God, or is comely before his saints, 
I scruple to feed this humour ; and God forbid that 
his being my son should be his claim to live not 
pleasingly to our heavenly Father, who hath raised 
me out of the dust to be what I am. I desire your 
faithfulness (he being also your concernment as well 
as mine) to advise him to approve himself to the 
Lord in his course of life, and to search his statutes 
for a rule to conscience, and to seek grace from 
Christ to enable him to walk therein. This hath life 
in it, and will come to somewhat ; what is a poor 
creature without this? This will not abridge of 
lawful pleasures, but teach such a use of them as 
will have the peace of a good conscience going along 
with it. Sir, I write what is in my heart ; I pray 
you communicate my mind herein to my son, and be 
his remembrancer in these things. Truly I love him ; 
he is dear to me, and so is his wife, and for their 
sakes do I thus write. They shall not want comfort 
or encouragement from me, so far as I may afford it. 
But indeed I cannot think I do well to feed a volup- 
tuous humour in my son, if he should make pleasure 
the business of his life, in a time when some precious 
saints are bleeding and breathing out their last for 
the safety of the rest. Sir, I beseech you, believe I 



EICHAED, LOED PEOTECTOE. 377 

here say not this to save my purse, for I shall 
willingly do what is convenient to satisfy his occa- 
sions as I have opportunity. But as I pray he may 
not walk in a course not pleasing to the Lord, so it 
lieth upon me to give him in love the best counsel I 
may, and I know not how better to convey it to him 
than by so good a hand as yours. Sir, I pray you, 
acquaint him with these thoughts of mine. And re- 
member my love to my daughter, for whose sake I 
shall be induced to do any reasonable thing.' 

I have quoted this admonition of the Protector 
Oliver at some length, because it exhibits more 
clearly than any other statement the real defects 
in Richard's character, and the anxiety which they 
produced in his father's mind. He had not a spark 
of genius, and he had no sustained elevation of pur- 
pose; but he was neither the fool, nor the poor- 
spirited, cowardly man that is commonly supposed. 
He was only an easy-tempered pococurante, thoroughly 
contented with any situation in which he found 
himself placed by circumstances or the will of others, 
seeking only to avoid the necessity of change or de- 
cided action as long as possible, and though not un- 
mindful of the course of events, and well acquainted 
with the facts of the situation, always hoping that 
something would arise which might prevent the 
necessity of his acting, or of his taking any but the 
least irksome and most pleasant line of action. He 
had considerable pleasantry and dry humour, but as 



378 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

little brilliancy in his wit as he had of capacity to com- 
mand the political situation in more serious matters. 
He was universally popular among his neighbours in 
Hampshire as a genial and accomplished country 
gentleman. His horses and his dogs were bis great 
delight, and his constant occupations were hawking 
and hunting and the ordinary pleasures of a country 
life. These tastes be preserved to the close of his 
long life, keeping his harriers after his return to 
Hursley from the Continent and Cheshunt, and 
riding out with the bounds, it is said, with unabated 
spirit when he was eighty years of age. He made 
no distinction of parties in his social intercourse, — 
bis father's example would tend to confirm bis 
natural disposition in this respect — but be lived so 
much on the same friendly terms with all, that it is 
not surprising that he was tbougbt to possess no fixed 
political or religious views of his own. Yet be was 
not a thoughtless man on such matters. He fully 
appreciated bis father's principles, botb religious and 
political, and bad a great tenacity in sucb matters, 
wbicb contrasts curiously witb bis want of enterprise 
when their interests were at stake, and when it lay 
witb him to secure tbose interests. There seems to 
be no foundation for tbe stories of bis being licentious 
in bis morals, and it is clear from bis father's letter 
that no rumour of anything of that sort bad reached 
him. All the testimony which has been preserved as 
to bis doings at Hursley, from those who knew him 



RICHARD, LORD PROTECTOR. 379 

there, represents him as leading a perfectly innocent 
if unmeaning life. At a subsequent period of his 
life he is said to have attended on Sundays at the 
single service given at the parish church of Hursley, 
and at another time of the day at the Baptist chapel 
at Eomsey. Long after the Restoration of the King 
he maintained an intimate friendship with his former 
chaplain, Mr. Howe, and visited him on his death- 
bed, the parting between them being described as very 
affecting. When his father was on his death-bed, 
and just before the cares of sovereignty were trans- 
ferred to his own shoulders, he wrote a letter to his 
friend and connection by marriage, Captain John 
Dunch, on the death of two common friends, which 
is not wanting in dignity, and shows a spirit suffi- 
ciently serious and thoughtful when his mind was 
directed to such topics. c I received your last sad 
intelligence,' he writes, e of the death of St. Barbe and 
his lady. I am persuaded they are out of a trouble- 
some world, and certainly happy ; the loss is not so 
much theirs as their neighbours'. The stroke of 
death is so forcible that the strongest cannot stand 
against it ; no weapons of the flesh to encounter the 
grave; they must be spiritual. Such I hope they 
had (by the grace of God) to make a victory, to 
charge through into the place of their wishes and 
glory. His friendship will make me to rejoice in his 
and his wife's happiness. It is a providential stroke, 
and ought to teach the most healthy and happy. I 



380 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

am fully persuaded the country hath a loss in him 
and I also, — they as wanting one that would assist 
them in difficulties ; I as a friend.' He then refers 
to the dangerous state in which his father lay, and 
the slight hopes raised by a fit of ague, ' shall it I 
please God to go on with his gentle hand, and bring j 
him temperately out of this fit ; ' which result, he i 
says, would be * a new life to his Highness, and the 
affairs as they now stand of this nation, with the 
Protestant interest of Christendom. I believe/ he I 
continues, 6 the rumour of this dangerous illness hath 
flown into all parts of this nation, and hath caused 
several persons of ill- affection to prick up their ears, 
which will cause friends to be vigilant, for they will 
hope they have a game to play. It is a time that 
will discover ail colours, and much of the disposition 
of the nation may be now gathered. I hear that 
those that have been enemies, others that have been 
no friends, some of both, are startled, fearing their 
possessions, and worser conditions, not considering 
their affection, in this hazard his Highness is in. It 
must be the goodness of God that shall save him, 
and his knowledge of the state of England and of 
Christendom; the spirit of prayer which is poured 
out for him, and the faith which is acted on behalf 
of him, give us the best comfort and hopes.' 

This is not the letter of one who was a fool, or who 
was unacquainted with the nature and bearings of the 
crisis in which he would have to take the principal 



EICHAKD, LOKD PEOTECTOR. 381 

part, should his father's illness terminate fatally. 
But the position of Eichard at the death of the 
Protector Oliver was one which demanded a rare 
combination of qualities to enable him to maintain 
his power. He, on the contrary, had little more 
than the passive virtues. Personally he would rouse 
dislike nowhere, but when it was roused against his 
Government there was nothing in him to resist or 
overcome it, unless it were the mere persistence of 
inertia. The successor to a newly-founded dynasty 
is always in a precarious position, for that feeling 
of a distinct and superior caste which is the great 
secret of the authority of an hereditary king, as such, 
over the nation he is called to govern, has not had 
yet time to root itself in the popular mind, while the 
other support to a new throne, the personal ascend- 
ancy of the great founder, is gone. The successor 
is still looked upon as one of the caste from which 
the founder raised himself, and, as is well known, 
every caste in society is distrustful and intolerant of 
the rule of one of its own members. The artisan 
prefers the leadership of the employer of labour ; the 
middle class man (however he may call for middle- 
class rule) has more satisfaction in the ascendancy 
and more consideration for the short-coming of the 
aristocrat ; and the nation, as a whole, prefers and 
bears with much more from the heir of its hereditary 
kings than from any scion of. a new reigning family. 
What was looked upon as natural indifference in 



823 ESTIMATES 0E THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Charles Stuart the younger would be criticised as 
indolent incapacity in Eichard Cromwell; and the 
pleasant, personal manners which were the source of 
unbounded popularity in the case of the former, 
would be underrated in the latter, and regarded as 
the condescension of a parvenu from the proper 
dignity of a king. Oliver had probably been long 
distracted in his resolution as to the successor he 
should name. On the one side were the elements of 
authority attaching to even the first step in an he- 
reditary descent of the Crown ; on the other hand, 
was the character of Eichard himself. Yet even 
this, as it would not provoke opposition, might con- 
ciliate public opinion by a judicious distribution of 
the Administrative and Cabinet appointments, and 
by a balance of the conflicting powers of the Puritan 
party. Such a scheme constituted probably the con- 
tents of the paper which Oliver is said to have 
mentioned on his death-bed, as his final disposition, 
but which could not be found. He had then at that 
dying moment nothing further to say than that 
s Eichard ' was to be the new head of the Govern- 
ment ; the paper might be discovered ; if not, the 
result must be left in the hands of Providence. 

Eichard, on his accession, had a natural party, but 
no personal adherents. His natural supporters were 
the old advisers of his father and the men whom 
Oliver had gathered around him out of nearly every 
political and religious section of the nation. But 



EICHAED, LORD PEOTECTOE. 383 

over these Eichard had no personal hold but their 
sense of the public and their own interest, and such 
feeling of attachment as they might have for the 
memory of his father. He had lived, as we have 
seen, with men of all parties, and though he was 
never a Cavalier in his feelings or opinions, some of 
the Cavaliers even had persuaded themselves that he 
would hasten to restore the King, — so little had been 
the impression left by him of his personal opinions. 
With the army, even if he ever held more than a 
nominal authority in their ranks, he had no special 
ties and no individual influence. With the officers 
the feeling respecting him was divided between 
jealousy of the other councillors, and perhaps the 
older nobility, whom Eichard might prefer to place 
in the high posts of the Government, distrust of his 
earnestness in their cause, and (in the case of his 
uncles Desborough and Jones and his brother-in-law 
Fleetwood) the unrespectful and invidious patronage 
of relatives. The Eepublican party in the Army 
and among the class of statesmen retained their 
aversion to the office of Protector, while they lost 
their fear of its possessor, and also the controlling 
restraints of old associations, which had at times 
half disarmed their antagonism and their anger in 
the case of Oliver. The Presbyterians were willing 
enough to adopt Eichard as a temporary head, but 
they were desirous to clip his independent power, 
until they had seen whether they could not find a 



384 ESTIMATES 0£ THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

more suitable head for a new dynasty. One man 
only might have saved him, if he also had not been 
disqualified by his antecedents and personal cha- 
racter. This was his younger brother, Henry. 

Henry Cromwell was an able man, and an ad- 
mirable administrator, full of the spirit of his father's 
wisest policy in many respects, and equal to any oc- 
casion on which his judgment made him resolve to 
take effective action. He had agreeable manners 
and a love of mixed society, though there was pro- 
bably no truth in the scandalous rumours which 
reached England and his family, and which he seems 
to have refuted by unexceptionable testimony to the 
contrary. As far as the natural opponents of his 
father's government were concerned, he took a wise 
and large view of the situation ; and the effect of his 
tolerant conciliation was very evident in the tran- 
quillity and satisfaction of the Irish people under his 
rule. But he was not equally tolerant of the alien- 
ated sections of the Puritan party and of disaffected 
friends. He had no old associations such as those 
of his father with the Republicans and ' Anabaptists,' 
of the Army and the Parliament, and did not, like 
him, c understand the men,' and see the common 
elements and sympathies which still might form a 
bond of future union. He could only see in Yane f a 
rotten member of the Commonwealth,' in the Army 
only a dangerous agent of arbitrary power, and in 
the Sectaries only unreasonable and fanatic men. 



RICHARD, LORD PROTECTOR. 385 

He had no natural insight into character, and his 
own prejudices and his anger at the personal attacks 
on his father, to whose memory he was devoted, and 
whose government he thought the ideal of the 1 Good 
Old Cause,' prevented him from availing himself of 
his undoubted powers of observation and discernment. 
He had excellent sense and a sound judgment as to 
the natural and probable issues of events, but his 
ability was not sufficiently commanding, as a whole, 
to overawe opposition and control the situation. He 
could act himself, if in his judgment he seemed 
called on to do so ; but he could not see clearly 
enough into the condition of affairs at a distance to 
be able to give more than general advice. He com- 
plained to his friends that he had been left quite 
unacquainted with the inner workings of affairs in 
England ; and he had not the resources of genius in 
himself to make up for the deficiency. He was an 
agreeable companion, but he had not the sweet 
temper of Eichard, and his more strongly pronounced 
opinions and actions often excited personal dislike. 
But what was most disqualifying in Henry at this 
crisis was the fact that he had no enterprise, and was 
of a despondent spirit. Where he should have 
animated his inert brother to action by pointing out 
the advantages he actually possessed, he could only 
dwell sorrowfully on the dangers and difficulties, and 
lament his own inability to assist him by advice or 
personal co-operation. All he could do was to 

c c 



386 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

promise to maintain his own government in Ireland, 
and write excellent admonitory letters to his mis- 
chievously c compliant ' brother-in-law Fleetwood. 
He had no self-confidence, and his very absence of 
personal ambition and dislike of arbitrary measures 
and bloodshed made him untrue to his adherents and 
his own cause when the crisis came. He succumbed 
tamely to the Republicans when his brother was de- 
posed ; and his conduct on the eve of the Restoration, 
if personally dignified, was deficient in duty to his 
responsibilities as a trustee and centre of power for 
the ' Good Old Cause.' In his fall, England lost a 
wise and right-minded administrator, but hardly a 
great statesman. 

The serious and repeated illnesses of Thurloe, the 
best informed of Oliver's old advisers, in the very 
crisis of the situation, accelerated the downfall of 
Richard. One moment's breathless calm and quiet 
acquiescence in his government had followed his ac- 
cession i but this was rather because his enemies of 
all parties expected the Government to fall of itself 
with the death of the Protector Oliver. But when 
it remained erect and unassailed, there was a disposi- 
tion to exaggerate its strength, and to rejoice in its 
unexpected stability. That would have been the 
moment for the personal action of the new Protector. 
But it was lost, and when he did act, it was not by 
balancing contending parties, and so becoming the 
master of the position ; but by resorting to successive 



EICHAED, LOED PEOTECTOE. 387 

and conflicting lines of policy, which roused all 
parties against him, and disheartened and disarmed 
his friends. He allowed the Parliament to curtail 
his powers, to lower his authority, and then to 
alienate and irritate to the utmost the Army and 
the officers. He next dissolved the Parliament at 
the dictation of the officers, and then, deserted by all 
parties alike, was himself deposed without a struggle, 
unless we call that a struggle which consisted in the 
menace of his continued residence (notwithstanding 
the orders of Parliament) in the royal palaces. He 
fell, not because he did not see what ought to be done, 
but because he acted too late, and at the wrong 
moment. Had he interposed sooner with the Par- 
liament in behalf of the Army, the Army would have 
afterwards supported him even against its own 
officers, if the appeal had been made to them in the 
name of their old General. Even at the last, had he 
boldly resumed his authority on the quarrel of the 
Army with the restored Long Parliament, and issued 
writs for a new Parliament, pledging himself to the 
officers to defend their just interests as well as the 
common public cause, they would have probably 
acquiesced, and the nation would have welcomed and 
supported him. But such was not to be the case 
with ' idle Dick Cromwell,' and he retired into private 
life. Once again he reappears in our State Papers as 
the willing head of a conspiracy for his restoration, 
during the angry state of public opinion caused by 

c c 2 



388 ESTE&ATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

tlie humiliations of the Dutch war; but he dis- 
appointed even that doubtful opening of fortune by 
his dilatory inaction ; and our last glimpse of him is 
in Westminster Hall, as a suitor against his own 
daughters. The suit was a just one, but it proved 
most painfully that the kind-hearted old country 
gentleman had no moral control over his own house- 
hold, and finally had forfeited the respect of his own 
children. 



389 



CHARLES TEE SECOND. 

Among all the English Sovereigns there is no 
instance of a popular favourite to whose memory 
such injustice has been done, intellectually, as it has 
to the so-called ' Merry Monarch.' The popular 
conception of Charles Stuart the Younger — and 
among the general English public there is no king 
of whom there is a more distinct conception — is of 
an easy, good-natured, if not good-hearted volup- 
tuary — socially an accomplished gentleman and wit, 
but with neither the capacity nor the desire for 
government or serious affairs, who managed to 
saunter through a reign of a quarter of a century, 
getting as much pleasure and irresponsibility as he 
could for himself amidst the general scramble of un- 
principled men for power and place ; but without the 
enterprise or perseverance necessary to any scheme 
for establishing the autocracy of the Crown, and with 
such a wholesome dread of 'going again on his 
travels,' or renewing the fatal scene at the window 
in Whitehall, as to afford a sure guarantee that he 
would retreat from any such attempt on the first 



390 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH EJNGS. 

serious demonstration of popular resentment. As 
might be expected, there is much in this conception 
of Charles which belonged to his real character ; yet 
as a representation of that character as a whole it is 
defective and delusive. 

Whatever may be our difficulty in ascertaining 
what his real character was — and there are remark- 
able difficulties in his case — there can be no doubt 
of one point, and that is that Charles was by far the 
ablest of the English Stuarts. This is not high 
praise in itself, but we have unexceptionable evidence 
that as an individual, as distinguished from a Euler, 
there have been few men who have mounted the 
throne of England who can bear comparison with 
him in intellectual capabilities. Sir William Temple 
— who whatever may be his disqualifications for 
judging of the character of Charles as a whole, was 
eminently qualified for forming a correct judgment 
of him in this point of view — gives us the following 
estimate, with which I may fitly introduce the sub- 
ject. Speaking of an interview which he had with 
the King, he says :-— c I never saw him in better 
humour, nor ever knew a more agreeable conversa- 
tion when he was so, and where he was pleased to 
be familiar; great quickness of conception, great 
pleasantness of wit, with great variety of knowledge, 
more observation, and truer judgment of men than 
one would have imagined by so careless and easy a 
manner as was natural to him in all he did and said. 



CHAKLES THE SECOND. 391 

He desired nothing but that he might be easy him- 
self, and that everybody else should be so.' The last 
sentence, which conveys an inference and speculation 
on Temple's own part, whether true or false, stands, 
of course, on another basis of evidence from the 
specific results of his own observation, recorded in 
the sentences which precede, and which are tolerably 
conclusive as to the marked capacity of Charles in 
matters of serious import. 

The character of Charles, whatever it may have 
been originally, appears to me to have been influenced 
in its practical development by two somewhat con- 
flicting circumstances. He was the representative of 
the principle of legitimacy, and he was an adventurer. 
Born in the purple, he had scarcely time to realise 
the notions of high prerogative and right divine 
which were in the ascendant in the Court of Charles 
the First, when at the age of twelve he was placed 
in the nominal command of a guard raised by his 
father, at the outbreak of a great struggle, in which 
the validity of those royal pretensions was subjected 
to the severe practical test of civil war; and from 
that time his life for the next four years was the 
wandering one of a soldier, varied only by the hollow 
and fleeting honours of a puppet-court. When even 
a remote island of his father's dominions was no 
longer a safe seat for this factitious royalty, he 
became at the age of sixteen a refugee in a foreign 
country; and for nearly fourteen years he led the 



'392 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

life of a needy adventurer and an almost hopeless 
.Pretender, scarcely relieved by the short and doubt- 
ful interlude of his roving royalty as c King of Scots.' 
.When at the age of thirty — mature in body and 
mind — he at length acquired his long-deferred in- 
heritance, except so far as his personal pretensions 
as a disinherited prince, and their occasional recog- 
nition by foreign rulers might have modified it, his 
character had been essentially moulded in the type 
of an adventurer. A certain amount of ability, or at 
least of adroitness, presence of mind, and self-reliance 
must necessarily be the result of such a school of 
circumstances. The amount of enterprise engendered 
may be a variable quantity, but the virtues of endur- 
ance, patience, and (in some form or other, and to 
some extent) of self-control, are necessary products 
of this discipline. Much, of course, must depend on 
the quality of the original material thus affected, and 
the natural temperament and intellectual capacity 
of Charles must form a principal and determining 
element in any analysis of his character ; but (be 
these what they might) he could never escape from 
his recollections of half a generation as a struggling 
adventurer. 

It might seem at first as if there could have been 
little more in common between Charles and the 
English world into which his ' Eestoration ' (as it 
was called) really first introduced him, than a recog- 
nition of those hereditary pretensions which the 



CHAKLES THE SECOND. 393 

Country of his birth, was at length, proclaiming with 
Wild and vague enthusiasm. His own past life— 
which must always have been to him the most 
thoroughly realised portion of his life — lay quite 
apart from that of England during the same period, 
and it might seem that there could be little sym- 
pathy between the two. Yet the life of English- 
men at home had also been, during the preceding 
twenty years, very much that of adventurers, full 
of strange vicissitudes, new and untrodden ways, 
and restless uncertainty and change. A. desire for 
repose, under almost any conditions, had for the time 
succeeded the fever of their aspirations for the highest 
types of national and individual life. They too wel- 
comed the restoration of the exiled Stuarts as an 
epoch not of hope but of rest, in which they might 
forget what they had been, in a dream of indolent 
pleasure. What to Charles was the realisation of 
liis wildest hopes was with the nation really (not- 
withstanding the external delirium of joy) the re- 
signation of disappointed hope. The [adventures of 
both People and Ruler had ended, and they wel- 
comed each other, and exchanged greetings, with a 
not entirely dissimilar retrospect, and with identical 
wishes for the present, though their feelings were 
really essentially different, and as such gave no secu- 
rity for harmony between them in the future. The 
public mind in England had been nearly as much 
affected and demoralised by the spirit of the past as 



394 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

had that of the adventurer whom they summoned to 
their aid, and the history of the succeeding years is 
as much an exemplification of the effects of this 
training on the character of the nation at large as of 
Charles himself ; and this fact rendered the complete- 
ness of his change of scene and associations more 
apparent than real. 

The c Eestoration ' brought to Charles rest— as it 
did momentarily to the nation — but the rest was not 
similar in character. In the nation it was the torpor 
of exhaustion, in the King it was the repose of a 
more assured position. To call Charles indolent is 
to mistake his disposition, or to place an unusual 
meaning on the word. The love of pleasure and of 
ease was, no doubt, a constituent and important 
element of his nature. Pleasure and the undisturbed 
pursuit of pleasure were certainly a great feature in 
his purposes of life, but the enjoyment of life as a 
whole was his real and leading disposition. He did 
not confine his attention to, or even take the most 
keen interest in, what are called, par excellence, the 
pleasures of life. He indulged in these to excess, but 
he carried his spirit of enjoyment into departments 
which are considered the most alien to pleasure as 
such. His conception of the sphere of enjoyment, 
indeed, covered the whole field of life. His mind was 
much too active and powerful to rest satisfied with 
the narrow province of the ordinary pleasure seeker. 
The very scepticism which he had imbibed from the 



CHAKLES THE SECOND. 395 

school in which he had been brought up, as to the 
reality of great principles, and of the recognised 
axioms of human conduct, widened his field of 
amusement. What was to earnest men a grave 
matter of serious and business-like attention, became 
in his eyes an amusing comedy of errors. The play 
of human feelings, and the phantasmagoria of 
politics, had a sensuous and irresistible charm for 
him. He was not satisfied until he had fathomed the 
character and natures of all the leading actors in the 
scenes passing around him, and then it was his 
great pleasure to set the whole machine in motion, 
and play a game of life according to his preconceived 
ideas of the value and import of the various figure- 
pieces. He looked at everything, not with reference 
to what it was, but to what it might be made to 
appear ; and at men not with regard to their charac-* 
ters and principles, but to the significance of the 
parts they had undertaken to play. To acquire this 
minute knowledge of men and circumstances, so as 
to obtain a quiet mastery over them, at least in his 
own mind, appeared, indeed, to him essential to the 
preservation of his power of enjoying life according 
to his wishes, and he made a new pleasure out of a 
supposed necessity. Although careless in his manner, 
a carelessness which expressed faithfully his estimate 
of the importance of human life and actions, but not 
his interest and amusement in them, he had natu- 
rally an inquisitive as well as an observant mind, and 



396 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

though he affected to trifle with consequences, he was 
not the less anxious to pry into the secrets of nature. 
His knowledge, though not contemptible, came from 
observation rather than from study. So far as ob- 
servation and quickness of perception would carry 
him, his mind was scientific in its tone. He liked to 
attend anatomical dissections — it was said popularly 
from anxiety about his own health, and no doubt he 
was desirous it should be attributed to that cause 
alone, in order to preserve his popular character of 
indifference to wider considerations. But he also 
engaged in chemical experiments, took great interest 
in the scientific improvement of artillery, and directed 
his attention beyond anything else to naval archi- 
tecture. The empirical and perceptive faculties 
implied in scientific pursuits, as distinguished from 
a priori truths and the elements of an intelligent 
faith — Science, in fact, in its unreligious aspect — 
were peculiarly congenial to his mind. He was an 
earnest man, so far as one to whom principles and 
men were alike unreal and conventional could be so. 
But he had learned the lesson from the events of his 
early life, that the secret Of obtaining and retaining 
real power lies in obtaining and preserving a charac- 
ter for careless indifference, in never parading the 
possession of power before the public eye, and yet 
always treating its absence as a provisional accident. 
In this way he secured an amount of actual licence 
for his own will which realised the wildest aims of 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 397 

his father. He tried, and usually with success; to 
avoid any appearance of annoyance at unexpected 
or successful opposition to his plans. He regarded 
such contretemps as inevitable, and gave way for the 
time as little as he could, but quite as much as was 
needed. He received Lord Eussell and his colleagues 
as his ministers without apparent distaste, and when 
the time was ripe, and he had quietly made their 
position untenable, blandly accepted their resig- 
nations e with all his heart.' He never entirely 
broke with any man of influence or ability until he 
felt that he could be turned to no further account, 
and was only a dangerous nuisance. From the first 
he was determined himself to govern, though this 
should not be seen by the public, and only felt im- 
perfectly by his Ministers themselves. He had his 
own ideas (though they never amounted to fixed 
plans) as to the government and organisation of 
England, just as he took pleasure and displayed 
considerable skill in planting, gardening, and build- 
ing. But he kept his ideas in the former case to him- 
self, and never made a confidant of any one man or 
woman. Nor did he ever commit himself definitely 
and unreservedly to any one line of policy, or place 
himself in the hands entirely of any one minister. He 
resembled his father in entertaining several plans at 
the same time, but he had the diplomatic talent, in 
which his father was entirely wanting, of making 
their very discrepancies and antagonisms subservient 



398 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

to liis general purpose. He had usually two or three 
plans of policy in seeming suspense, and two or three 
ministers each rejoicing in a very limited, but, as he 
supposed, undivided confidence. Most of the men of 
his time, no doubt he regarded with amused con- 
tempt. He had gauged the exact amount of the talents, 
and he had a clear knowledge and appreciation of 
the special characters and prejudices of a Shaftesbury, 
an Arlington, a Danby, a Halifax, and a Eussell, and 
he made use of them all in turn, and from the conflict 
or balance of their characters and prejudices managed 
to avoid the dictation of any of them, while it became 
quite impossible to gather his real mind from the 
composition of any of his administrations. His own 
policy was always ambiguous, and the public leapt to 
the conclusion, that he was a careless indifferentist 
who had no policy at all. He carried this ambiguity 
even into the province of his personal debaucheries. 
If he had a mistress with French or Eoman Catholic 
proclivities to raise the hopes of one faction, he had 
also a Protestant mistress at the same time to re- 
assure the fears of others. The story is well known 
of Nell Gwynne's coarse but effective explanation when 
she was assailed by a Protestant mob in mistake for 
the Duchess of Portsmouth, Charles never ignored or 
directly opposed national prejudices when they as- 
sumed formidable dimensions, but he never succumbed 
to them. He temporised, made concessions, evaded 
decided issues, and waited and watched till, by skil- 



CHAELES THE SECOND. 399 

fully availing himself of the course of events, he 
seemed to have been released by them rather than to 
have released himself from his engagements. Popular 
suspicion of any designs of his own was effectually 
disarmed by his seemingly idle habits and his cheer- 
ful affability. "Who could have suspected a Royal 
conspirator in the chatty man of pleasure feeding 
the ducks in St. James's Park ! Nature had at- 
tempted to mark the true character of the man by 
the grim sardonic features with which she had 
endowed him; but he persuaded his people to 
disbelieve in the evidence of nature. But if he 
deluded his own people, he deluded foreign powers 
also. He was, it is well known, the pensioner of 
France ; but it is an entire mistake to suppose that 
he was the mere servile tool of Louis. He had made 
up his mind that it was quite impossible to lead the 
independent life he required, and escape the surveil- 
lance and interference of Parliament, if he was to be 
dependent for his revenue on it alone. He was too 
shrewd to resort to the systematic illegalities of his 
father to obtain extra-Parliamentary supplies; and 
he resolved to achieve his end out of the coffers of 
Louis. He cared little for the degradation to himself 
of such a position in the eyes of Prance, or of his own 
people, when it was accidentally disclosed to them. 
He was resolved not to be wholly dependent on Louis 
any more than on the House of Commons, and he 
played off the one resource against the other with 



400 ESTIMATES OF ; THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

marvellous skill and success. Louis, in fact, could 
scarcely count more surely on Charles's support, as 
the reward of his money-payments, than he could on 
that of the popular leaders whom he also paid for 
opposing their King. King and patriots alike took 
his money, and acted very much as they would have 
done if they had had other resources. Charles had 
no desire to commit himself either to a Catholic or 
Protestant alliance, and though the occasions of his 
changes of policy might be to some extent affected 
by the money of Louis, on the whole, except in the 
political humiliation of England, Louis was decidedly 
the loser, and the dupe in these pecuniary trans- 
actions ; and Charles himself preserved substantially 
a position of independence. He had nearly always 
the alternative to offer of a popular and anti- French 
policy, which would secure him willing supplies from 
Parliament, or of abstinence from such a course at 
the price of French gold ; and Louis had generally 
no alternative but to open his coffers. 

The conventional aspect in which most questions 
presented themselves to the mind of Charles had at 
least one good effect. They rendered him compara- 
tively unsusceptible to the feelings of resentment and 
implacability. Naturally good-tempered, and in his 
familiar social intercourse willing to bear defeat in 
his encounters of wit with good-humour, he did not, 
as a rule, feel any personal grudge to those who 
thwarted or opposed his political schemes. He was 



CHAELES THE SECOND. 401 

cold-hearted enough, it is true, to pronounce their 
doom with calm indifference, if policy seemed to 
render their removal desirable ; but apart from this, 
he avoided the shedding of blood, and would seldom 
condescend to remember personal injuries. The men 
who had condemned his father to the scaffold he sent 
to a cruel death with entire phlegm, though in so 
doing he probably followed a policy of Eoyal self- 
assertion, and consulted the demands of excited 
partisans, rather than those of his own feelings. He 
did not press the sentence on Lambert, while he 
pronounced the greatest possible panegyric on the 
abilities and character of Vane, in declaring him to 
be, in his opinion, too dangerous a man to let live. 
Eussell and Sidney suffered probably less from any 
fear of their personal ability than from a strong belief 
in their influence as the heads of a party which, but 
for their removal, might have succeeded after the 
King's death in preventing the succession of the Duke 
of York. On this latter point Charles had followed 
his usual policy of balancing pretensions and keeping 
his real purpose in suspense. He had indulged his 
own fondness for Monmouth freely, and in so doing 
had held in check the intrigues of James, and the 
uncompromising party who gathered round that 
Prince ; while at the same time he never allowed 
Monmouth to assume the position of his intended 
heir, or to become anything else than a useful link 
between the Crown in his own person and the 

D D 



402 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

popular aspirations which associated themselves with 
the name of his son. As a fact, Charles probably 
had a strong feeling as to the abstract rights of his 
brother, although he did not choose to commit him- 
self quite irretrievably in public to this doctrine. He 
had, however, a settled opinion, that any alteration 
in the succession, if made at all, should proceed from 
his own will, and not from the demands and imagined 
necessities of the nation. In subsequent years Halifax 
and Sheffield (afterwards Duke of Buckingham), 
who both knew him well, asserted that Charles was 
himself an Atheist. It is tolerably certain, however, 
now that he became a member of the Eoman Catholic 
Church before the Restoration. The truth probably 
is, that Charles had a belief in the existence of a God, 
but of such a God as he himself would conceive 
as the highest type of absolute Sovereignty — per- 
fectly irresponsible — watching in serene seclusion the 
course of human affairs, and employing as the exter- 
nal agents of his religious administration a Church 
of conventional forms and conventional doctrines. 
When he had once recognised this agent of the Divine, 
he did not think it necessary to identify himself more 
closely with it until he received its certificate of sal- 
vation on his death-bed, satisfied till then with assist- 
ing it when convenient to him, and making use of it 
much as he would of any other human machinery. 
When he had received this necessary passport to the 
next world his sense of duty was satisfied, and he 



CHAELES THE SECOND. 403 

apologised politely to the expectant courtiers for 
being so long in dying. 

As far, however, as the practical affairs of life and 
of his own Government were concerned, Charles was 
an Atheist. He believed in nothing and in nobody 
except in himself, and in his own power of managing 
his own business. Having no faith, he had no real 
object, except the passive one of securing his own 
1 freedom of action or inaction, and carrying on the 
Government of England as pleasantly and with as 
little turmoil as possible. In this sense there is 
; great truth in Temple's remark, which has been 
already quoted, that ' he desired nothing but that he 
I might be easy himself, and that everybody else should 
be so.' It is impossible to conceive of a greater 
! contrast than that offered between his Government 
in this respect and that of the Protector Oliver. If 
ever there was an attempt made to realise the presence 
and government of God in the administration of this 
country, it was made, and to some extent successfully 
made, by the great Protector. But able and sagacious 
and clear-sighted as Charles was, he may be truly 
said to have £ lived without God,' and the un-Godlike 
in the full sense of the term became the distinguishing 
stamp of his reign. At the best, his administration 
was a successful subterfuge, a clever imposture, an 
adroit fis-aller. He had a profound faith in his own 
traditional position as Sovereign, and he had an 
intense pride in his own personality as the arbiter of 

D D2 



404 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the situation. Yet his plan of Government rendered 
it necessary that he himself • should skulk behind a 
screen of falsehood and chicanery, and that his 
personality should be merged in a puppet-show. He 
wished well to England, yet he degraded her in the 
eyes of every nation of Europe, and set a stamp of 
ignominy on his foreign administration in the eyes 
of nearly every Englishman. Not a few important 
and valuable laws, are connected with his reign, yet 
not one is in popular memory connected with his name 
and fame. We know from the personal character of 
his administration that he must have passively or 
willingly sanctioned their enactment, but he has suc- 
ceeded by his system of dissimulation in prevent- 
ing us from assigning with certainty any personal 
merits to him for any one of them. He affected to 
favour contradictory policies of many men in suc- 
cession, so that his own position lost all distinctness ; 
and if he escaped from the general discredit, he 
forfeited all claim to particular merits. He had 
clever ideas on public affairs, and a thorough insight 
into the lower motives, at least, of human action. 
He meant probably to pursue some policy of his own, 
but he ended as he began, with merely evading 
complicity in the policy of others. He had the ability 
to have set his stamp upon the age : he only suc- 
ceeded in obliterating himself. 



405 



JAMES THE SECOND. 

It lias been the misfortune of Boman Catholicism in 
England, that the onlj two Sovereigns since the 
Eeformation who have openly identified themselves 
with its cause have been both singularly ill-qualified 
to inspire enthusiasm by their personal characteristics. 
Queen Mary, whatever may be her claims to respect 
in certain points of view, was unquestionably most 
unattractive in her demeanour; and James Stuart 
the Younger was personally as unromantic and un- 
interesting a martyr as any cause has ever boasted. 
In his brother Charles, unshackled personal govern- 
ment had appealed to the support and half-disarmed 
the prejudice of the nation by an almost unparalleled 
combination of geniality and consummate tact ; but 
in the case of James, even those most disposed to 
enlist themselves under the banner which he dis- 
played, found their continued adherence to him a 
rather severe strain on their feelings of devoted loy- 
alty. And even now it is difficult to peruse the re- 
cords of his unfortunate career without experiencing 
a much stronger feeling of distaste, not to say repug- 



406 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

nance, than is warranted by the actual offences and 
real disposition of James himself. Certainly in him 
error and vice lost all the grace which sometimes is 
held to be their palliation, if not their condonation ; 
and his reputation remains stripped of all adventitious 
appeals for sympathy, except such as may spring 
from the merciful consideration and pity due to one 
who ended his days in exile and comparative obscurity. 
Any description of the character of such a man, apart 
from a narrative of events, cannot be very interest- 
ing ; for any interest belonging to the period attaches 
itself to the events themselves, not to the man who 
was in turn their principal agent and their victim. 

James Stuart affords in his career a remarkable 
example of a man of limited capacity and shallow 
moral nature, tempted by the mistaken estimate 
formed of him by others, as well as by his own un- 
doubting self-esteem, to attempt the roles of a 
statesman and an apostle. There was by nature just 
enough ability in him to have made him a respectable 
man of business, if circumstances had not called him 
to any important career ; and he had just enough 
good principles to have made him a fairly conscien- 
tious and generally well-meaning, if not highly moral 
individual, if circumstances had not exposed him to 
any great temptations. He had a clear head for 
small things, with good sense in their appreciation, and 
when he chose had considerable powers of application 
to business. He was by nature obstinate, but rather 



JAMES THE SECOND. 407 

from slowness, in apprehending anything which was 
alien to his preconceived ideas than from any actual 
persistency in his nature ; for he was also very im- 
pressionable when some chord of his nature was 
touched, or when the argument was brought within 
the range of his mental perceptions ; and when thus 
affected, he was apt to take sudden resolutions in 
entirely opposite directions to his former line of 
action. He was really much influenced and led by 
those who could lay hold of his characteristic pe- 
culiarities, but he never willingly did anything which 
he did not believe to have proceeded from himself 
alone, and to have been dictated by his own un- 
assisted judgment. He had the greatest desire to 
master the situation, and the most firm belief that 
he was capable of so doing. The Duke of Bucking- 
ham, according to Bishop Burnet, said of the two 
Royal brothers, that Charles II. ' could see things if 
he would,' and James ' would see things if he could.' 
He was a man who was injured morally and intel- 
lectually almost equally by prosperity and adversity. 
By the former his ambition was raised, his estimate 
of his own abilities was enormously exaggerated, his 
confidence of success became unbounded ; good sense 
and prudence alike deserted him, his temper became 
rough and arrogant, his disposition fierce and un- 
feeling, and his whole nature was hardened. On the 
other hand, adversity or an unexpected overthrow of 
his confident anticipations depressed his intellect 



408 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

below its natural standard, crushed his personal 
dignity, and injuriously affected his moral integrity. 
And his whole career had been one of extreme 
vicissitudes of good and ill fortune. When too 
young to be much influenced in the formation of his 
character by external events, he had been exposed, 
like his elder brother, to the perils and calamities 
of civil war, — had been a sort of State prisoner 
in the hands of the victorious Parliament, — had 
escaped to the Continent while still a lad, and had 
there been subjected alike to the evils of exile, and 
the allurements or persecutions of his mother's 
religious proselytism. The obstinate elements of his 
nature seem to have been roused by these attempts 
to force him, against his own free-will, into the fold 
of Rome, and he resisted all overt attempts with a 
seeming pertinacity of Protestant conviction. He 
served both under Turenne and Conde with some 
distinction, giving evidence of aptitudes for the 
duties of an officer, which induced Turenne, it is said, 
to entertain expectations of his military capacity 
which were never in any way realised in succeeding 
years. This was one of the first instances of his 
really limited abilities misleading spectators into the 
idea that he was designed for great things. In fact, 
his brother's fate was exactly reversed in his case. 
Charles was a clever man, who was depreciated 
through his own wilful self-effacement. James was 
a man of inferior talents, who was overrated, and 



JAMES THE SECOND. 409 

wlio endeavoured to make the world believe that this 
exaggerated estimate was correct. In the early- 
years of his brother's reign he was looked upon with 
considerable respect as the appropriate head of the 
Militia of the Crown, both by land and sea. His 
political influence was weakened, but not overthrown, 
by the downfall of his father-in-law, Clarendon. He 
had a sort of professional pleasure in the two ser- 
vices, especially in the Navy, as to which he liked to 
fancy himself a great administrative reformer. This, 
joined to a display of physical courage which passed 
for that presence of mind in crises in which he was 
really deficient, made the nation for a short time 
believe that they had found in him a hero-prince and 
a great commander. At the same time, an impetu- 
ous outspokenness, which, in truth, was the result 
very much of arrogance, inspired a belief in his blunt 
sincerity and truthfulness. But scarcely had he 
recommended himself to the national affections by 
these specious appearances of great qualities, and 
secured the hearty thanks and eager reward of 
Parliament for his services, than he began to degene- 
rate under the effects of good-fortune and popular 
estimation, and to display less pleasing character- 
istics, which soon affected vitally the public estimate 
of him on nearly all points. Pepys, his subordinate 
in the Admiralty and devoted creature, has recorded 
the gossip which conveyed the first intimation of 
this change in the public appreciation of the Duke 



410 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

in consequence of the change in his demeanour from 
obsequiousness to arrogant self-assumption. 

By degrees the nation awoke to the conviction 
that James entertained extremely dangerous ideas 
on the subject of arbitrary power in the Executive, 
and was very ready to anticipate in his own personal 
actions their general recognition. James, in fact, 
had really had no experience of his own capacity for 
dealing with great events. A Revolution had driven 
him helplessly into exile ; another Revolution, which 
he had had no part in bringing about, had replaced 
him in his native country, and in a position of dig- 
nity. A popular delusion had credited him with 
eminent abilities, in one department at least, and 
had conjectured the existence of corresponding talent 
in other directions. He accepted all these things as 
true measures of his capacity, and of the inherent 
power of the Crown, and in the fulness of his self- 
satisfaction he unfolded to the nation something of 
his real nature. Like his father, but unlike his 
brother Charles, his pleasure was in the display more 
than in the reality of power, and he reaped the fruit 
in a corresponding amount of unpopularity. 

But the event which overthrew entirely the estima- 
tion in which he once stood with the English nation 
was his avowal of his conversion to Roman Catholi- 
cism. His brother Charles seems to have been already 
a Roman Catholic when he landed in England at 
the Restoration ; but we have no evidence of James 



JAMES THE SECOND. 411 

having adopted these views so early. He had been 
a much more ardent Protestant while an exile than 
his brother ever was during his whole lifetime ; but 
in some way or other the astute Church of Eome had 
obtained the key to his understanding and feelings 
on this point, and the obstinate Protestant became 
the obstinate Eomanist. There was something, in- 
deed, in the pretensions of Eome which was congenial 
to the character of James. Although he was jealous 
of his own independence of action, he was, as I have 
said, really much disposed to rely on others, through 
an unconscious recognition of his own inferior capacity. 
It was, therefore, a real relief to his whole nature 
when he was induced to believe that in one great 
department of thought he was not required by any 
regard to self-respect to exert his own judgment; 
and when, as a necessity of human nature in general, 
he was called on to rely implicitly on the guidance of 
an Infallible Church. As early as the February of 
1661, Pepys expresses his disinclination that f the 
Duke of York and his family should come to the 
throne, he being a professed friend to the Catholiques.' 
But for many years, and long after the time when it 
is known that he was a member of the Eoman 
Church, James attended the ordinances of the Church 
of England and remained an ostensible Protestant. 
In January, 1669, the meeting took place at his 
house in which King Charles avowed himself a 
Eoman Catholic, and professed a wish to establish 



412 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS." 

that religion in England. But it was not till 1672 
that James omitted to take the Easter Sunday com- 
munion with the Anglican Church ; he repeated this 
omission in 1673; and on the passing of the Test 
Act in the latter year, he resigned his public em- 
ployments and avowed his religious opinions. The 
long delay in this disclosure of his conversion was 
probably due to the influence of Charles, who was 
greatly annoyed at his brother's ultimate avowal, 
which seriously compromised his own position, and 
overthrew any schemes of his own for a gradual 
preparation of the ground for a safe declaration of 
opinion on the part of both of them. But James, 
probably, entirely misapprehended the strength and 
significance of the popular sentiment on this point, 
and believed that a public avowal of their conversion 
by the members of the Eoyal Family would itself 
prepare the minds of the nation for a coming change 
in their own Established Religion. From this time, 
during the rest of the reign of his brother, he was 
a constant object of popular suspicion. His ability 
as well as his disposition for evil were exaggerated, 
and no efforts on his part to conciliate public opinion 
would have succeeded in disarming the prejudice 
against him. His own attempts to regain his former 
position were very unsuccessful. He never succeeded 
in persuading the Nonconformists that he was a 
lover of toleration, by his new-born sympathy with 
their disabilities and persecutions, and his overtures 



JAMES THE SECOND. 413 

to the popular leaders in Parliament to co-operate 
with them against Danby, which in his autobio- 
graphical memorials he falsely represents as over- 
tures to him on their part, indignantly rejected by 
him, were, in fact, coldly received, and led to no 
results. 

The adroit firmness of Charles rescued his brother 
from the impending blow of the Exclusion Bill ; and 
once more, without any merit of his own, he resumed 
some degree of open authority in public affairs, and 
succeeded without opposition to the long-coveted 
Crown, which had at one time seemed hopelessly lost 
to him. I need not here repeat the well-known tale 
of his subsequent blunders. At the moment of his 
accession, and while still distrustful of the reality of 
his recognition by the nation, he promised every- 
thing in Church and State that the nation could 
desire, and showed a mild urbanity of manner which 
astonished and delighted his well-wishers among the 
Protestant Tories and High Churchmen. But as 
soon as he found himself popular, James relapsed 
into his arrogance and self-assumption, explained 
away his promises, and soon showed that in the 
intoxication of a momentary success he believed 
everything feasible that he himself wished, and the 
nation most detested. Minister succeeded minister 
in his counsels ; measure succeeded measure in a 
rapid progression of arbitrary tendencies, and Anti- 
Protestant proceedings, until every man of influence 



414 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

was alienated, and every moderate partisan was driven 
into open opposition. The unsuccessful risings of 
Monmouth and Argyll really accelerated the downfall 
of James, by increasing enormously his blind self-con- 
fidence. At last, a more formidable leader appeared 
for the nearly universal discontent in England and 
Scotland, in which latter country Nonconformity 
had learnt by bitter experience the justice of its 
former distrust of James's professions of toleration. 
English Nonconformity had been very imperfectly 
conciliated by the dangerous e Indulgence,' under 
which lurked designs of a very different nature. 
Then James struck his last and, as it proved to him, 
his fatal blow at the Church of England, in the 
persons of some of her most influential prelates, and 
even of some of the most devoted of the advocates of 
the right divine of kings. On this came the expe- 
dition of William of Orange, and the sudden panic- 
stricken retractation by James of his madly rash 
measures. It was too late; and after a faint and 
ignominious struggle he left the shores of England 
to return thither no more ; and after severe but de- 
cisive struggles in Scotland and Ireland, the legiti- 
mate line of the Stuarts ceased to reign over the 
Three Kingdoms. 

To his downfall one of James's children had con- 
tributed through the person of her husband, while 
another had deserted him in the moment of his ut- 
most need. The rationale of their conduct belongs 



JAMES THE SECOND. 415 

rather to subsequent papers in this series of Esti- 
mates. It is sufficient to say here that James was 
a fond father to his children when they were young, 
and that he always retained a certain sense of 
property in them, which approached, if it did not 
realise, the intensity of natural affection, though it 
did not prevent him from acting towards them on 
occasions in a manner which was somewhat incon- 
sistent with that idea. As is well known, he was an 
uxorious but most unfaithful husband, his attach- 
ments to other women, which were very numerous, 
seeming to be, except perhaps in the case of Cathe- 
rine Sedley, of a purely physical character. His 
choice of mistresses, however, seemed to be in general 
singularly independent of the common ideas of at- 
traction, so that his witty brother used to conjecture 
that his ugly mistresses had been forced on him by 
his priests as a penance. Bub, in fact, his priests 
tried in vain to cheek this profligacy in their Royal 
convert. James was a devout Romanist, but an ob- 
stinate sinner, and with many promises and occa- 
sional penitence and remorse, he always relapsed into 
his evil ways. His sense of duty was in this case in- 
deed feebler than in other ordinary matters. Every- 
one must admit that he had a far stronger sense of 
duty in general than his brother Charles, who can 
scarcely be said to have had any idea of duty, as 
such, at all. It was this which made James resolve 
on an open avowal of his religious principles; and 



416 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

this again, no doubt, was a great inciting cause of 
his unlucky attempt to establish Bomanism on the 
ruins of Protestantism after he became King. This 
feeling of duty and perception of the difference 
between right and wrong did not, it is true, prevent 
James from being occasionally a liar and a dis- 
sembler, — but in the main it lent to his character a 
certain weight which is its redeeming quality. If 
he was a dull bigot, he was certainly not a merely 
frivolous voluptuary. He had a purpose, and he 
endeavoured to carry it out with unfaltering perti- 
nacity up to the fatal moment which disclosed to 
him the dangers of his position, and to the world his 
own want of presence of mind and of moral courage. 
His pursuit of a definite purpose gave him, as con- 
temporaries have observed, the only intellectual 
advantage which he possessed over his able brother 
Charles. It is an unfortunate circumstance that it 
was also the main cause of his disastrous downfall. 

The reputation of James would have been highest 
if he had been confined to the seclusion of private 
life ; it would have been fairly good if he had been 
a permanent under-Secretary in a public office ; it wa s 
very indifferent as a Statesman ; it is calamitously 
evil as a Sovereign. 




417 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 

The general intellectual ability of William of Nassau, 
Prince of Orange, has never been questioned, nor the 
great influence which he exercised over the course of 
European as well as English affairs from the time 
when he first entered on the public arena. But a 
considerable difference of opinion exists as to the 
rank which should be assigned to him as an English 
Sovereign, not merely morally, but also intellectually. 
He was undoubtedly the originator and, during his 
lifetime, the very soul of that European combination 
which first checked Louis the Fourteenth in his pro- 
gress towards an autocrac} r over Europe, and which, 
after William's own death, through the instrumen- 
tality of higher military ability than he possessed, 
completely destroyed the ascendancy of France. It 
is to his enterprise and firm judgment, far more than 
to any courage or capacity in Englishmen themselves, 
that we are indebted for the speedy and comparatively 
bloodless overthrow of all James Stuart's long- 
cherished and matured schemes for the destruction 
of the liberties of England. Yet, on the other hand, 

E E 



418 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

there is scarcely a reign in our annals which is less 
satisfactory or agreeable than that of William the 
Third as an illustration of the relations between a 
king and his people, or a king who achieved less 
personal popularity than he did. The explanation of 
this seeming anomaly appears to lie partly in the 
peculiarities of his own character, and partly in the 
exceptional circumstances of his position. 

In William the Third the wise discretion of his 
great-grandfather William 'the Silent,' the heroic 
leader of the Low Countries in their revolt against 
the oppression of Spain, appeared to be revived, but 
in a somewhat different and less favourable form. His 
early years had unfortunately been attended by cir- 
cumstances which stiffened a naturally proud and 
reserved disposition into repelling coldness and brood- 
ing uncommunicativeness. His physical constitution, 
which is said to have been singularly poor-blooded, had 
no doubt something to do with this demeanour. But 
there was also a nervous irritability — usually display- 
ing itself in a morose and sullen demeanour, or a 
rough and inconsiderate mode of expression, but some- 
times surging up into violent explosions of passion — 
and there were an ardour and intemperance in his few 
but deep personal attachments, which show that the 
frozen surface of his nature was not incompatible 
with the existence underneath of the boiling springs 
of a deeply sensitive and passionate spirit. That the 
rough and seemingly unfeeling manner to which he 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 419 

sometimes gave way, was not an index of a real want 
of warm feeling, or of his actual sentiments towards 
those to whom it was displayed, is evident from the 
fact that his wife, to whom he was devotedly attached, 
and whose death nearly brought his own along with 
it, and for the time actually unhinged his mind, was 
yet the not unfrequent sufferer from these ebullitions. 
There can be little doubt, therefore, that these out- 
breaks were chiefly indications of physical disorder, 
and not necessarily connected with the essentials of 
his disposition. There was often in his bearing much 
of the frigid and forbidding haughtiness of his grand- 
father Charles the First, on occasions when his wishes 
were crossed and his prejudices and tastes offended ; 
but just as he was much more honest than that King, 
so he could not, like him, assume, when it served his 
purpose and when his temper was under control, the 
winning yet stately condescension which has given 
a false varnish to Charles's manners as well as to 
his character in the eyes of posterity. At the same 
time, without the somewhat selfish ambition of his 
great-uncle Maurice, William the Third had much 
of Maurice's impatient sense of ability and desire of 
untrammelled command. With many of the quali- 
fications of a military commander, he possessed also, 
what has been frequently found the great disqualifi- 
cation of military men for civil government, an im- 
patience of the interference of private or popular 
feelings and interests with the execution of a care- 

E E 2 



420 ESTIMATES OF~THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

fully prepared and well-considered policy, and an in- 
ability to understand the motives and right of such 
interference, or to place themselves en rapport with 
such opponents. Like them he was too much dis- 
posed in his own heart to resent the expression of 
public opinion as a breach of discipline, and to view 
all men as if they had all subscribed the articles of 
Martial Law. With nothing of the self-centred 
ambition and heartlessness of the House of Stuart, 
William had in no slight degree that sense of a 
princely birth and its absolute rights which was so 
prominent a feature in both Stuarts and Tudors, and 
was the parent of the characteristic self-will of both 
families. William the Silent had loved civil freedom 
and constitutional forms of government in themselves, 
and was ever eager to preserve and assert them, even 
against his own family interests. But his great- 
grandson had seen civil virtues chiefly in the form of 
antagonism to himself, and an attempt to degrade 
him from his rightful position, and deprive him of 
his natural career in life ; while, in the forms of con- 
stitutional government, he had been compelled, by 
the unhappy condition of his country, to recognise 
only hindrances in his plans for saving her from a 
foreign enemy and virtual auxiliaries to her national 
enslavement. There was another circumstance which 
disqualified the younger William from estimating 
constitutional matters in their true light. The first 
deliverer of the Dutch Provinces had had ample time 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 421 

and opportunity, before he assumed the conduct of 
public affairs, to cultivate his mind carefully, and to 
gather up the lessons of ancient and modern history, 
in aid of a proper interpretation of men and institu- 
tions. But the second deliverer of the Provinces had 
but an imperfect and narrow education, and was left 
very much to gather his political philosophy from his 
own personal experiences. Such a training, while it 
may cultivate a greater self-reliance and self-possessed 
readiness, confines the materials of judgment to the 
narrow limits of personal circumstances, and tends 
to the identification of special and exceptional deve- 
lopments of political ideas with their necessary and 
essential characteristics. William must have always 
found it difficult to think of a watchful guardian of 
constitutional privileges without mixing him up with 
the memories of De Witt and the Anti-Orange party, 
or to estimate the motives of an economical obstruc- 
tion to his plans for resisting the Dictator of Europe, 
without some tacit imputation of insane or treache- 
rous indifference to national honour and safety. 

And if this very limited and purely experimental 
education deferred and modified the general popu- 
larity which he ultimately achieved in the Dutch 
Confederation, still more would it operate disadvan- 
tageously in the case of England. It must be re- 
membered that, from his first years of intelligence 
down to his expedition to England at the end of the 
year 1688, William had known that country only as 



422 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

the England of Charles the Second and James the 
Second, and had based his estimate of Englishmen 
and English politics on the peculiar circumstances of 
that one period. Deeply interested, as from his near 
relation to the English Throne, as well as the weight 
attaching to the national power of England in the 
great European struggle, he necessarily was in all that 
went on on that side of the water, he was shut out 
by circumstances from any but the briefest and most 
imperfect opportunities of making himself acquainted 
with the rationale of English affairs and of English- 
men by personal observation. He had to rely for his 
information on diplomatic reports from the Dutch 
agents, or on the interested representations of Eng- 
lish political exiles. Nor, as far as I can judge, had 
he any marked natural insight into character to en- 
able him to dispense with a prolonged personal 
observation. If he never gave his unreserved confi- 
dence to persons unworthy of trust, the gap between 
this inner circle and the outer one of his general ac- 
quaintances was so great as to warrant the suspicion 
that he distrusted his own powers of insight too 
much to venture beyond the well assured ground of 
a long-testing experience. He was only too much 
justified by later events in his general distrust of 
English statesmen ; but it was an unfortunate feeling 
to be entertained by a King of England, and as its 
result created a popular impression that, whatever 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 423 

might be outward appearances, England, under him, 
was really governed by foreigners only. 

William in his heart must have looked upon Eng- 
lishmen generally as men not without strong opinions 
and prejudices, but too unprincipled and too chauge- 
able to be reliable agents in any great enterprise 
except when controlled within the strong grasp of a 
high-principled autocrat. On the Whigs, as allies 
in his European policy, he had but a very limited 
reliance ; with the Whigs as professed patriots and 
constitutionalists he had no sympathies at all. 

And such a type of character as that which he 
associated with Englishmen, was really repulsive to 
William. Though the school of diplomacy in which 
he had been trained had exercised a certain unfavour- 
able influence on his own veracity and the spotlessness 
of his honour, yet he was substantially, and, for these 
days, distinctively an honest and honourable man, 
with whom honour and high principle were the most 
congenial policy. Not only Louis the Fourteenth, 
but his uncle, Charles the Second, tried in vain to 
tempt him from the perilous and, it seemed then, 
desperate path of honour in the defence of the 
United Provinces, by offers of safe though dishonour- 
able authority and wealth. Burnet and the diploma- 
tic correspondence quoted by Sir James Mackintosh 
in his ' History of the Revolution ' inform us that 
Charles seized the occasion of his nephew's visit to 
England in October, 1670, when he was still a mere 



424 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGE1SH KINGS. 

lad, though, already a recognised statesman, to sound 
him as to participation in his own infamous policy. 
6 All the Protestants,' said the King, 6 are a factious 
body broken among themselves since they have 
been broken from the main stock. Look into these 
things better ; do not be misled by your Dutch block- 
heads. 5 The advice was not taken, and Charles, in 
recording his failure to the French Ambassador, said, 
' I am satisfied with the Prince's abilities, but I find 
him too zealous a Dutchman and a Protestant to be 
trusted with the secret.' In fact, it was this Protes- 
tantism of William's in its Calvinistic form which 
braced up his moral integrity on this and similar 
occasions, and nerved him to that undaunted perse- 
verance which ultimately proved more than a match 
for the craft and resources of Louis and the genius of 
his marshals and statesmen. The Calvinistic system 
of theology, although, as in William's own case, it 
has not always proved a security against private 
immorality in its professors, has always been the 
guardian of public honour and national morality. 
The Dutch House of Orange were deeply imbued 
with this system, in the form in which it is held by 
thoughtful and strong men, and it was as an embodi- 
ment of its spirit, quite as much as through his indi- 
vidual self-reliance and natural abilities, that William 
the Third was enabled to conduct so long and so unde- 
spairingly, his very chequered contest with the power 
of France. So when he was himself the subject of 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 425 

popular misrepresentation in England, his strong 
religious feeling made him write to his beloved 
Bentinck : c I see in all this only a chastisement of 
Heaven, which blinds honest men, and permits the 
wicked to prosper in their designs.' There was 
much in this Calvinistic tone of religious thought 
which might under other circumstances have formed 
a strong bond between William and the people he 
was destined ultimately to govern. But the Calvinism 
of the Prince was cast in such a mould as belonged 
to a statesman and a man of European experience ; 
while the Calvinism of England, which, in the person 
of the Protector Oliver, had presented an ideal, how- 
ever imperfect, of a Christian governor, had degene- 
rated, through the deteriorating influences of succeed- 
ing years, into a rabid antipathy to Romanism and 
a narrow Church creed. The Calvinistic William 
had not missed the lessons of Toleration which a 
European platform of action had impressed on his 
great namesake William the Silent, while Calvinistic 
England was much more busied in finding out in- 
quisitorial tests and political disqualifications for 
avowed or concealed 'Papists and Socinians,' than 
in applying to the larger questions of the day the 
manly principles of public action and private self- 
respect which may be deduced from that emphati- 
cally personal religious system with which the name 
of Calvin has been associated. Thus, with similar 
religious dogmas, king and people had no common 



426 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

religious field of action, and that which might have 
cemented their union, and covered a host of incon- 
gruities on other points, became practically only a 
source of discord. With an irreproachable orthodox 
system of divinity, William became in the eyes of the 
English zealots in practice little better than a Lati- 
tudinarian. 

The point as to the sincerity and truthfulness of 
William's character is undoubtedly not one which 
can be settled quite satisfactorily, or without some 
reserve. His conduct during the reigns of his uncles 
Charles and James has been subjected to severe 
criticism, and he has been accused of playing a 
selfishly ambitious and double part. Without going 
so far as to acquit him of all underhand intrigue and 
dissimulation, I may say that, considering the ex- 
traordinary difficulties of his position as son-in-law 
to the heir to the Crown, and yet by his religious 
sympathies, if not by his political position, himself 
bound up with a cause to which his father-in-law had 
generally shown marked hostility, it tells in favour 
of the general truthfulness and honour of his charac- 
ter that, with the loose views then and still held 
respecting the moral canons of diplomacy, there 
should be so little evidence against him of positive 
falsehood. M. Grimblot, the editor of the ' Corre- 
spondence of William the Third and Louis the 
Fourteenth with their Ministers (1697 to 1700),' 
after contrasting the style of William's letters with 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 427 

that of his great rival's, observes : ' But if we pass 
from the style to the kernel of the thought, the 
superiority ceases to be on the side of Louis the 
Fourteenth. In all their ruggedness the letters of 
William the Third have a stamp of honesty which we 
might seek for in vain in the grander despatches of his 
rival. It is the same with the proceedings of both. 5 
During the reign of Charles the Second it was the 
difficult part of William to endeavour to detach that 
king from a French alliance, by exhibiting himself 
in the most friendly light towards Charles personally, 
and yet at the same time not to alienate the Whig 
party in England, who on religious and political 
grounds were his natural allies. He had to humour 
the King's affection for the Duke of Monmouth by 
sedulous attentions to that prince in exile, and yet 
not to strengthen Monmouth's pretensions to the 
succession to the Crown, to the detriment of his own 
wife's right and prospects. He had, at the beginning 
of the succeeding reign, the still more difficult task of 
guarding against the ruin of the party which sup- 
ported Monmouth's pretensions, and which formed 
an important and active element in the Protestant 
forces of England without aiding the Duke in the 
subversion of the throne of James. To have assisted 
Monmouth to his ends would have been suicidal on 
William's part, particularly at a time when William's 
own wife stood in the position of heiress to the 
Crown. The manner in which William endeavoured 



428 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

to meet this dilemma seems to have been as follows. 
He complied at once with. James 5 requests for the 
return of the Scotch and English regiments which 
were in the Dutch service, and he accompanied this 
compliance with a private offer through Bentinck, to 
come over himself and take a command in England 
against the Duke. Had he done so, he could by his 
influence have defeated the Duke's projects, and by 
the moral and material position he would thus acquire 
would have compelled the King to come to such 
terms with his subjects as might secure their liberties, 
and, without degrading the Crown, protect James 
against his own wilfulness. This the husband of the 
heiress to the Crown could alone do. It must be 
remembered also that, after becoming a pensioner 
of France, James had begun to exhibit airs of inde- 
pendence of the French King, which inspired hopes 
that he might be won over to the anti-Gallican 
alliance. If James then could be reconciled with 
the disaffected part of his subjects, there would be 
little danger of his being thrown back for support on 
the subsidies of France. But this loophole of escape 
from revolution was closed by James' non-acceptance 
of the offer of William. The fitting out of the 
expedition of Monmouth in a Dutch port might 
possibly have been prevented, notwithstanding the 
sympathies of Amsterdam with the Duke, if William 
had not desired to present to James the danger of 
his position in a tangible form. Its actual sailing 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 429 

appears to have been the work of the authorities of 
Amsterdam, who besides their sympathies with Mon- 
mouth's cause, might well wish to set up a rival 
against the House of Orange, in the prospect of its 
succession to the Government of England. Probably 
William over-finessed in this instance, and the result 
of Sedgmoor fight, although he would gladly have 
prevented the conflict, must have been a real relief 
to him. But the conduct of James, intoxicated by 
his victory, and in his self-delusion identifying the 
abstinence of influential Englishmen from active 
support of the personal interests of Monmouth with 
an indifference to the cause under cover of which 
the Duke put forward those interests, became at last 
such that there seemed to be no alternative between 
a revolution which might ruin the prospects of the 
whole family, and the establishment of a despotic 
government in England, under the protectorate of 
France. The birth of a Prince of Wales, besides 
severing the immediate personal interests of James 
and William, seemed to shut out conclusively the 
future possible accession of England to the cause of 
European independence. Then, urged by every con- 
sideration that could move a statesman, William 
resolved to carry out his former idea in another 
shape, and as he could no longer save the King, to 
save his wife's rights, and protect Holland and 
Europe from a great impending danger. 

The result of the expedition of William to England 



430 t ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

was his election to the throne of that kingdom, 
nominally in conjunction with his wife, bnt with the 
sole administration of the Government in his own 
hands ; and the new King found himself at once face 
to face with dangers and difficulties even greater 
than those which he had already successfully en- 
countered. Independently of the disappointed re- 
action which is certain to follow such a great change, 
the perplexities which must attend the position and 
measures of any sovereign the basis of whose govern- 
ment is a successful revolution, must be always very 
considerable ; for however much disposed he may be 
to respect and guard the liberties of his new subjects, 
he must necessarily be the organ of settled order and 
lawful authority, and the occasions are rare indeed 
on which he can escape from the autocratic associa- 
tions of such an office, and become the embodiment 
and exponent of the sympathies and aspirations of 
the governed masses. He may temper and compose 
the spirit of irregular liberty, but in so doing he must 
frequently also curb and oppose it. On the other 
hand, the very men whose resistance to the fallen 
dynasty laid the foundations of his present authority 
are usually, by the traditions of their party prin- 
ciples, rather the natural guardians of the liberties 
of the subject than the champions of the Executive, 
however constitutional may be its course, just as the 
assertion of the Royal prerogative to some extent 
appears to be almost inseparable from the possession 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 431 

of the Eoyal office. Both William and the Whig 
leaders were called upon to break with the Past and 
accommodate themselves as they best could to the 
awkward and anomalous conditions of the Present, 
and both were consequently always in an uneasy and 
ill-defined relation to one another, which could 
hardly fail, whatever might be the individual cha- 
racters of the persons concerned, to produce em- 
barrassment and discord. There was this additional 
complication, too, that William was more nearly 
bound up with the Whig party, by the fact that they 
had supported his personal pretensions to the Crown 
against the projects of the High Church and the 
Protestant Tories, which involved a Regency in the 
name of James, or the sole election of his wife to the 
throne. In William himself the love of power and 
impatience of external resistance to his plans, to 
which I have already adverted, and which must have 
always rendered it difficult for him to endure the 
criticism and delays of a popular system of govern- 
ment, were combined with a proud spirit which was 
always disposed to give way most when concession 
was asked rather than demanded, and optional 
instead of obligatory, and to comply and co-operate 
with those who had no ostensible claim on his 
compliance, rather than with those who might claim 
his favour by a sort of moral right. There can be 
little doubt that he fretted under the sense of owing 
his throne to any set of men, however eminent and 



432 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

deserving, and felt a temptation to employ his scacely- 
reclaimed opponents in their stead, from the mere 
fact that with them he felt a greater freedom of will 
and action. This is probably the explanation of the 
calumnious reports spread against him by his enemies, 
and retailed in some of the gossiping and uncritical 
biographies of the present day, that he never forgave 
a personal service that had been rendered him, but 
always bore a grudge to his benefactor. The name 
of Bentinck is sufficient to refute this statement in 
the gross and injurious form in which it is usually 
presented, but it is probably so far true that William 
found it more easy to forgive an injury than to sus- 
tain the weight of a personal obligation. 

Partly from some such considerations as those we 
have just referred to, partly from a higher concep- 
tion of his duties as the King, not of one party but 
of a whole nation, William was led to employ men 
whose principles and whose antecedents and convic- 
tions were Tory, if not Jacobite. By several of these, 
as well as by not a few of those who boasted of the 
name of Whig, but had been disappointed, either 
personally or politically, in the results of the Eevolu- 
tion, William was betrayed in a greater or less 
degree — the treachery varying from a friendly and 
deprecatory correspondence with the exiled Court of 
St. Germains to a disclosure of projected enterprises 
of William's government, which involved a loss of the 
lives of Englishmen and a lowering of the national 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 433 

honour. Can it be wondered at that, narrowed in 
his confidences by the uncompromising principles of 
a few and the treason of many, William fell back 
more and more on Holland and on Favouritism? 
The general national prejudice against Dutchmen, 
and the popular intolerance of the associations and 
friendships which he had formed under other cir- 
cumstances, and which would naturally always be 
more to him than any mere English associations, 
seemed to William gross ingratitude on the part of 
those for whose deliverance he had done so much, 
and he felt authorised and even driven to protect, 
against the consequences of their invidious eminence, 
the future position of those who encountered with 
him the storm of popular dislike. The very sense 
that what he was doing was perilous to himself and 
prejudicial to his personal interests served only with 
a man of his temperament to render his proceedings 
more trenchant and reckless ; and the disclosure of 
the enormous grants made out of the forfeited lands 
in Ireland and the Crown lauds elsewhere to his 
favourites and his mistress, scandalised even those 
who had been the most uncompromising vindicators 
of his conduct. The dismissal of his Dutch Guards, 
which was wrung from him about the same time, if 
it showed a great want of consideration on the part 
of Englishmen for the feelings of one to whom they 
owed so much, and whose great merits they were 
compelled to admit, also demonstrated most pain- 

F F 



434 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

fully a want of penetration as well as adroitness in 
William himself in dealing wiih National sentiment. 
But for this, the dismissal of the Guards would never 
have been demanded, or would have been volunteered 
by the King himself before the national desire 
assumed the form of a demand. But William 
laboured under the delusion that national confidence 
and sympathy could be commanded simply by the 
pursuit of a noble line of policy, and by a general 
regard to justice and legality. He never learnt how 
much more depends on a careful attention to little 
arts of personal demeanour, and on complaisance in 
trifles, and how by these social qualifications a bad 
man and an unprincipled king such as Charles the 
Second may be able to achieve a popularity which 
was denied to himself. He was too proud to bend 
his mind to such lower means of appealing to public 
sentiment, and he found some colour for his want 
of effort in this direction in his unfamiliarity with 
the English language, and his foreign education and 
tastes. He was, in fact, the Coriolanus of English 
Kings in this respect, and thoroughly despised 
popular judgment. Nor were his public services to 
Europe such as would recommend themselves imme- 
diately or forcibly to the popular English mind. To 
begin with, though an experienced General, William 
was not a successful one, and with consummate pre- 
sence of mind and considerable military skill, he could 
lay no claim to the character of a great military genius. 



WILLIAM AND MAKY. 435 

His struggle against the power of France, though 
persistent, and in the end to a great degree success- 
ful, was not a brilliant one, and was marked rather by 
the capacity of retrieving military disasters, than of 
exciting the popular enthusiasm by great victories. 
His very courage, though heroic in fact, had nothing 
of the romantic in its fashion, and the romantic and 
sentimental, after all, have the most powerful hold, 
next to the religious, over the popular mind. 

William's romance and William's sentiment were 
confined to and concentrated in two quarters — his 
few intimate friends and his wife. With the former 
his coldness and his formal reserve altogether dis- 
appeared, and he was the warm-hearted sympathiser 
and unceremonious companion. Here the rebound 
of his character took place, and carried him to an 
excess in a direction quite opposite to that of his 
ordinary self-restraint. Bentinck and Keppel, it is 
well known, held the highest places in his favour. 
The former commanded his deep esteem and con- 
fidence by his shrewd ability and entire devotion to 
William. The latter engaged his affections by his 
attractive personal manners and engaging qualities. 
Neither could disarm the national prejudice, and in 
the case of Bentinck it was as intense as indiscri- 
minating. But Bentinck was a statesman — Keppel 
little more than an accomplished courtier. They 
repaid the King's favour by unwavering fidelity ; but 

FF 2 



436 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

they rendered his private life often very uncomfor- 
table by their mutual jealousy. 

William's relations with his wife were so peculiar 
that, even with our tolerably complete knowledge of 
the character of both husband and wife, it is difficult 
fully to realise them. Mary Stuart, or, as she may 
be more distinctively called, Mary of Orange, was 
one of those self-suppressed characters whose life is 
voluntarily sunk in that of another, and yet whose 
own personal features well deserve a separate recog- 
nition. Not possessed of commanding abilities, and, 
though lively and affable, with no pretensions to 
those brilliant drawing-room accomplishments which 
have made Frenchwomen the autocrats of a world of 
their own, Mary possessed that most valuable quality, 
thorough good sense, in its most refined and engaging 
form. Her perceptions were clear and generally 
correct, her power of discrimination was unusually 
keen, and her reasonableness was as marked as it is 
uncommon. But the great beauty of her character 
lay in the sweet and well-ordered harmony of her 
mind, in which there was room for no disorder, 
except when its serenity was ruffled by the outbreaks 
of one ruling passion,— her intense devotion to her 
husband, and resentment of any injury or affront to 
him. This feeling controlled every thought and 
regulated every word and act of Mary. Admiration, 
a sense of protection, and a self- identifying sympathy 
were the main ingredients of this womanly devotion. 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 437 

The self-sacrifice tendered by such a nature was 
intelligent and unobtrusive, and before its influence 
the natural jealousies and most painful circumstances 
of their relative positions vanished. She convinced 
William that she had, with simple unconsciousness 
of any other possible course, renounced in his favour 
all the distinctive privileges and authority of her 
personal right to the Crown, and by her eager self- 
identification with his cause she guarded him against 
the self-reproach of having compelled her to sacrifice 
to him her secondary duties as a daughter. That 
she herself should escape reproach and calumny on 
this latter point was impossible, but when we re- 
member the early age at which she lost sight of her 
father and became part of the life of her husband, 
and the little tenderness which was ever exhibited 
by that father towards her, and still less towards him 
in whom her very existence was wrapt up, we shall 
not be much inclined to estimate the offence against 
family ties very highly. That there always remained 
a respectful and kindly consideration for her father 
in his misfortunes and exile, Burnet and others who 
had personal opportunities of watching her closely 
strongly testify, and their evidence is confirmed by 
the unaffected testimony of her own pen. In one 
of her letters to William, written while the latter 
was on his Irish campaign, which have happily been 
preserved to us, there is a quiet reference to this 
mutually recognised feeling which speaks for itself. 



438 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

In acknowledging the news of the battle of the Bojne 
Mary writes, ' He [Lord Nottingham] brought me 
your letter yesterday, and I could not hold, so he saw 
me cry, which I have hindered myself from before 
everybody till then that it was impossible ; and this 
morning, when I heard the joyful news from Mr. 
Butler, I was in pain to know what was become of 
the late King, and durst not ask him; but when 
Lord Nottingham came, I did venture to do it, and I 
had the satisfaction to know he was safe. I know 
I need not beg you to let him be taken care of, for I 
am confident you will for your own sake ; yet add 
that to all your kindness, and for my sake, let people 
know you would have no hurt come to his person. 
Forgive me this.' Her strange and seemingly un- 
feeling conduct when she first entered Whitehall 
Palace after the flight of James, is explained by 
Burnet on her own authority as a piece of over- 
acting on her part, in consequence of an intimation 
from William, that if she seemed melancholy people 
would think she disapproved of his expedition. A 
passage in one of her letters to her husband seems to 
confirm this explanation: — 'I never did anything 
without thinking : " Now it may be, you are in the 
greatest dangers, and yet I must see company upon 
my set days ; I must play twice a week; nay, I must 
laugh and talk, tho' never so much against my will : " 
I believe I dissemble very ill to those who know me, 
at least 'tis a great constraint to myself, yet I must 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 439 

endure it. All my motions are so wretched, and all 
I do so observed, that if I eat less, or speak less, or 
look more grave, all is lost in the opinion of the 
world ; so that I have this misery added to that of 
your absence, and my fears of your dear person, that 
I must grin when my heart is ready to break, and 
talk when my heart is so oppressed I can scarce 
breathe.' On one point the devotion of the wife to 
the husband was sorely tried in the case of Mary, and 
her conduct here also has been looked upon as a 
proof of her coldness, if not coarseness of tempera- 
ment. William, though in reality her passionate 
devotion to him scarcely surpassed his deep-rooted 
attachment to her, was an unfaithful husband, and 
though decorous in his indulgence in vice, did not 
conceal his faithlessness from his wife. As far as we 
know, she, true to her canon of never acknowledging 
to herself, or in the eyes of the world, an injury from 
her husband, ignored the matter, and tolerated the 
mistress in her train. Whatever she may have felt 
in her secret heart, Mary had obliterated from her 
canon all rights of her own as against her husband, 
and sensitive as her nature was in many points, it 
had also a certain matter-of-fact unsentimentality 
which permitted her to weigh in the balance con- 
flicting feelings and duties where most women would 
have abandoned themselves unreservedly to natural 
impulses. If she complained to William, the public 
never heard the echo of her remonstrance ; and she 



440 ESTIMATES OE~THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

combated the rival influences of mistress and favour- 
ites by a redoubled self-devotion to him, which was, 
there can be no doubt, one great ingredient in the 
bitterness of his agony when she was taken from him 
by death. The key, perhaps, to her passive endurance 
in this extreme case, and of her control of her natural 
emotion in the case of her filial responsibilities, lay 
in the fact that the faintness of her imaginativeness 
in comparison with her practical good sense, except 
where her husband's safety was concerned, prevented 
her from exaggerating to her own mind the gravity 
of this conflict of duties, and enabled her to decide 
on her proper line of action or inaction from a 
comparatively calm survey of actual facts. Her 
untutored piety taught her that there must be a 
right path which she might pursue, and having 
ascertained it to her own satisfaction* she performed 
her supposed duty without further misgivings, and 
perhaps even with little trouble of mind. William, 
who did justice to her high qualities, observed to 
Lord Shrewsbury when he left her as Regent during 
his absence, that she would know better how to suit 
the English people than he did ; and the result proved 
the truth of his judgment, for the occasional glimpses 
which Englishmen had of the distinct regal person- 
ality of Mary, added to the popularity which her 
pleasing and courteous manners and her piety and 
charities as a woman had already secured, gave her 



WILLIAM AND MAEY. 441 

a hold on their affection and devotion which was never 
once shaken. 

It would be doing injustice to the memory of 
William to estimate his humanity and clemency by 
such exceptional events as the massacre of Glencoe, 
which he certainly countenanced, if he did not 
expressly order it ; or by his implacable resentment 
in the case of a few individuals, such as Sir John 
Fenwick. He was not in himself either bloodthirsty 
or revengeful; he again and again moderated the 
severity of victorious retribution, and there are few 
kings who have forgiven more often or more personal 
injuries than he. But where his judgment or pre- 
judices decided that severity was the course demanded 
from him, the iron discipline to which he had sub- 
jected his own mind seemed to deaden for the time 
any perception of cruelty or feeling of compassion. 
The narrow and intolerant enthusiasm of one section 
of the Scotch people did not more offend his reason 
as a thinking man, than the ill-regulated im-perium 
in imperio of the Clan system irritated and alarmed 
his sensibilities as a ruler. He saw in the bloody 
retribution at Grlencoe a fortunate blow and a neces- 
sary warning to this insubordinate spirit, and with 
this consideration the actual slaughter affected him 
very faintly, even when pressed on his attention by 
public outcry. In the case of individuals, if he were 
not convinced in his mind that the individual was 
rather culpable than essentially criminal, he saw no 



442 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH ZINGS. 

reason to interfere with, the sword of justice, unless 
the individual and the occasion were alike unworthy 
of so grave an act. In his forgiveness he was just 
and magnanimous rather than generous and com- 
passionate. 

Perhaps, after all, the defect in William's nature, 
which lay at the bottom of his mal-adroitness in con- 
ciliating popular feeling, and of the unattractiveness 
of his demeanour, was his almost absolute want of 
the faculty of imagination. Every one has felt on 
a consideration of his character that, whatever its 
merits, it presented a most complete contrast to that 
of such a man as Sir Philip Sidney; and the contrast, 
if pushed into detail, would elucidate considerably 
the character of each. Sir Philip lived in an ideal 
world, apart from the hard and morally forbidding- 
world of reality presented by that age, but which 
ideal world yet reflected a certain glow of external 
beauty and romance over even this hard reality. But 
beyond this his life was purposeless and disappointing. 
This is Chivalry in its very essence. William, though 
high-minded and armed with a noble purpose in life, 
was essentially unchivalrous. His energetic and 
unfaltering pursuit of a great end was not the 
realisation of an imaginative ideal, but an act of 
reason and duty and religious faith. Men and events 
presented themselves to his mind in their sober and 
unattractive reality. He could not conceive of and 
therefore was unable to appeal to that hidden world 



WILLIAM AND MARY. 443 

of sentiment and undefined emotion which underlies 
not only the individual mind, but the self-conscious- 
ness of a nation, and which from time to time, by its 
intervention, confounds the most careful calculations 
of events. He appealed only to bare facts and to 
cold reason and stern duty, while the nation was 
longing for a trumpet-call, however wildly blown, 
which might summon it away from the lower 
calculations of worldly wisdom to the higher en- 
thusiasm of emotional loyalty and patriotism. Mary 
possessed the instincts of a woman to supply partially 
the want of imagination which was common to her- 
self and her husband. But in his masculine nature 
it was the source of much of that forbidding and 
sometimes almost brutal moroseness of demeanour 
which deprived him of the love of his people, though 
it could not wholly rob him of their scarcely self- 
acknowledged admiration and reliance. The same 
mental peculiarity which made him despise poetry 
and literature, which recognised the fine arts only in 
their stiffest and most realistic developments, which 
delighted in a stately uniformity of courts and walks 
and avenues, that left nothing to the imagination, 
and, like his own policy, was impressive rather 
than attractive to the common mind, crippled his 
endeavours to reconstitute English society and con- 
solidate the English Constitution, and made him, 
with all his acknowledged merits, an unpopular 
king. 



444 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Yet with all his drawbacks, moral and intellectual, 
William was not only a high-minded and able states- 
man, but essentially a noble man. Insensibly, under 
the influence of his high purpose and persevering 
faith in its realisation, the general standard, as 
distinct from that of individuals and courtiers, was 
elevated from the degradation of the preceding 
period ; and the first symptoms of a future amend- 
ment in political morals appeared in the attention 
excited by acts of corruption. Corruption was still 
dominant, but it was recognised in its true colours. 
There was great mismanagement in the processes of 
government, but the ends of the administration were 
no longer evil. There was still a struggle between 
Prerogative and Constitutional Eights, but it was a 
misunderstanding between purposes equally praise- 
worthy, and no longer a conflict against selfish 
misrule and a low-toned despotism. The Ruler was 
not loved, but he was respected ; and if England was 
uneasy and dissatisfied at home, she had regained 
her natural weight in the scale of European nations. 
He who could achieve all this under such disad- 
vantageous conditions, and in so brief a time, conld 
not have been a bad man, and cannot be estimated as 
a wholly unsuccessful Ruler. 



445 



ANNE. 

It is scarcely possible to conceive of a greater con- 
trast in respect of greatness than that presented be- 
tween the reign and the character of Anne Stuart. 
The reign, although it occupied but a small fractional 
part of the life of the Queen, was, in point of results, 
one of the most important in the annals of England, 
— the Queen, though she was one of the best-in- 
tention ed and most conscientious of our Sovereigns, 
was at the same time one of the least able and 
most common-place. Although her peculiarities and 
weaknesses really determined to a great degree not 
only the fate of the English Constitution, but the 
whole course of European events, she seems to us 
now in herself rather an accident than an essential 
part of her own reign. A youthful fancy, confirmed 
by habit, placed her at the almost absolute command 
of an able but rapacious and overbearing woman, 
and to the accident of this woman becoming the 
wife of John Churchill we owe nearly all of national 
greatness that is associated with the name of Queen 



446 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Anne. Had this imperious favourite not obtained 
this ascendancy over the mind of a weak Princess, 
the armies of England might never have been com- 
manded by the great General who led them to 
victory, and the power of Louis the Fourteenth 
might have remained unbroken, or even have be- 
come still more paramount in Europe. So, had 
Sarah Jennings been as capable of retaining as she 
was of gaining an ascendancy over the mind of her 
royal mistress, the influence of France over the 
affairs of Europe might have been suspended for 
many years — even if that country itself should have 
escaped dismemberment — and the empire and re- 
sources of Spain might have been once more placed 
at the disposal of the House of Austria. Again, 
had not the sentiments of Marlborough's wife and 
the opportunities for a display of his military 
abilities afforded by the great European contest 
against the power of France gradually estranged his 
sympathies from the Tory party and its High-Church 
and Right-Divine associations, and drawn him to- 
wards the leaders of the Whig party, the fortune of 
whose cause hung on the issue of that European 
contest, Anne might have been left entirely to the 
impulses of her own religious and political predi- 
lections, and the Crown of Great Britain might have 
passed, either by substitution or succession, to the 
exiled but legitimate heir of the House of Stuart, to 
the entire exclusion of the Protestant House of 



ANNE. 447 

Hanover. England, in that case, might have been 
doomed to a repetition of the great Civil Wars of the 
preceding century and on an equal scale. On the 
other hand, had not the subtle and intriguing Harley 
succeeded in 'finding a suitable instrument for his 
purpose of undermining the position of Marlborough 
in the 'very humble' Abigail Hill (better known as 
Mrs. Masham), Anne might have never dared to 
rebel against the tyranny of the Duchess of Marl- 
borough, and England might have taken the place of 
France as the arbiter of Europe, and in her turn pro- 
voked a hostile European coalition. As it was, Anne 
Stuart, herself deeply imbued with the principles of 
Right Divine, ascended the throne and remained 
upon it to the end of her life, to the exclusion of the 
legitimate heir; called to her counsels men whose 
principles she detested, and for whom she had no 
personal regard, and curtailed her reign of its grow- 
ing European reputation and lowered for the time 
the position of England by what was certainly in 
itself an inglorious and discreditable pacification, 
though il may have really been a not unfortunate 
event for the more lasting interest of this country. 
From beginning to end, this Queen, with more 
marked political and religious preferences than the 
majority of our Princes, was almost a passive puppet 
of external circumstances, and a tool alternately of 
two parties, the principles of one of which outraged 
her most cherished feelings, and the designs of the 



448 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

most efficient members of the other of which men- 
aced the very existence of her royal authority. 

As in the case of William the Third, no doubt, the 
anomalous position of Anne from her early years had 
a good deal to do with this strange paralysis of 
personal character; but, as in his case, the cha- 
racter itself had still more direct influence. Anne 
lost at an early age the support and guidance of a 
mother ; and although we have no reason to suppose 
that the influence of Anne Hyde would have tended 
much to the elevation of her daughter's character, 
yet it might have absorbed, in a more wholesome 
manner, some of that excessive craving for sympa- 
thetic and reassuring friendship which the timid and 
helpless nature of Anne always exhibited, and which 
made her the slave of Sarah of Marlborough. 
The care and superintendence of an energetic step- 
mother might have prevented this ascendancy, but 
Mary of Modena, in addition to the disadvantages 
inseparable from this difficult position, was a Roman 
Catholic of a very extreme and bigoted type, while 
the only influence which shared the sway over the 
mind of Anne with friendship was a strong religious 
conviction. Fortunately for her ultimate chances of 
succession to the throne of England, Anne was edu- 
cated by divines of the Anglican communion, and 
such a mind as hers became entirely subjugated by 
the system of High-Church Protestantism which 
recommended itself to her by proferring authorita- 



ANNE. 449 

tive guidance, while leaving her a nominal freedom. 
At the same time, it laid sufficient stress on the 
necessity of forms and ceremonies to present her re- 
ligious duty to her in a concrete form, in which she 
might discharge it without much call upon her 
intellectual powers, or disturbing appeals to her 
moral consciousness. To the convictions thus early 
adopted Anne clung with the tenacity which is so 
often exhibited on one or two points by a mind which 
is in general irresolute and vacillating. It may seem 
strange that one with such views should have found 
a congenial associate in Lady Churchill, whose 
theological opinions were as openly latitudinarian as 
her character was unscrupulous. But this divergence 
between the friends was really one of the things 
which contributed to confirm the ascendancy of the 
favourite. Lady Churchill had from the first as- 
sumed the role of the candid friend who flatters not, 
and while she made this a pretext for allowing some 
part of her naturally domineering and insolent spirit 
to display itself openly in her demeanour towards 
Anne, she recommended herself to the confiding yet 
anxious and suspicious temperament of her mistress, 
by this apparent independence and honesty on such 
an important point of divergence. And perhaps, 
after all, Anne felt a little of the pleasure which very 
good people sometimes experience in thus indulging 
in a questionable and contraband enjoyment. Mary 
of Orange, who did not relish what she had seen and 



450 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

heard of her sister's favourite, ventured to give her 
a warning, and Anne thus meets one of the charges 
against Lady Churchill : — c It is true she is not so 
strict as some are, nor does she keep such a bustle 
with Religion, which I confess, I think, is none the 
worse, for one sees so many saints mere devils, that 
if one be a good Christian, the less show one makes 
the better, in my opinion. Then, as for moral prin- 
ciples, it is impossible to have better, and without all 
that, lifting up of the hands and eyes, and often 
going to church, will prove but a very lame devo- 
tion. ' There is an ingenuity and good sense in this 
plea, which, whether it represented Anne's delibe- 
rate sentiment, or was a mere passing expression in- 
spired by her desire to excuse her anomalous friend- 
ship, satisfied Mary that the only way was to endea- 
vour to influence her sister through Lady Churchill, 
whom from that time she tried to conciliate. The 
friends, in their joint pursuit of a perfectly candid 
friendship, had agreed to employ in their correspond- 
ence the more familiar names of ' Mrs. Morley ' and 
6 Mrs. Freeman ; ' and one letter will suffice as an 
illustration of the terms on which they stood in the 
heyday of their attachment. Anne writes to her 
favourite, — 'Dear Mrs. Freeman may easily imagine 
I cannot have much to say since I saw her. How- 
ever, I must write two words ; for though I believe 
she does not doubt of my constancy, seeing how base 



ANNE. 451 

and false all the world is, I am of that temper, I 
think, I can never say enough to assure you of it. 
Therefore, give me leave to assure you they can 
never change me. And there is no misery I cannot 
readily resolve to suffer, rather than the thought 
of parting from you. And I do swear, I would 
sooner be torn in pieces than alter this my resolu- 
ion. My dear Mrs. Freeman, I beg to hear from 
you.' A romantic c eternal friendship ' such as this, 
very common in the early annals of young ladies, lias 
generally its euthanasia in the marriage of one of the 
contracting parties, but there was assuredly no ro- 
mance in the marriage -lot of Anne to rival the claims 
of friendship. Charles the Second's witty saying as to 
the hopeless dulness of Prince George of Denmark is 
well known, and although Anne herself had no very 
fine intellectual susceptibilities to be outraged by this 
prosaic associate, she must have been devoid of all 
imagination and all youthful sentiment if she had not 
experienced some want of a familiar interchange of 
ideas with a rather more interesting companion than 
her husband. Thus the hopeless stolidity of Prince 
George was an invaluable auxiliary to the ambition 
of Sarah Churchill. That lady's brilliant and au- 
dacious qualities had indeed for Anne all the at- 
tractive piquancy of contrast to her husband's, as 
well as to her own, and until they assumed the form of 
exacting insolence and incessant jealous upbraiding, 

G G 2 



452 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

they supplied to Anne's anxious aud timid nature all 
the pleasurable support and excitement of a stimu- 
lating drink. 

Notwithstanding, however, what to some women 
would have been the intolerable companionship of such 
a husband as the one she was mated to, Anne was a 
happy as well as an affectionate wife, and a devoted, 
though most unfortunate mother. Child after child 
was born only to die in infancy or childhood. Here 
the character of Anne displayed itself to best 
advantage. Her naturally kind and affectionate 
heart made her feel keenly what her deep and un- 
affected piety enabled her to bear with touching 
resignation. On one occasion the deaths of two 
children came in the closest succession, and at a time 
when she was attending the sick-bed of her husband, 
and Lady Eussell gives us a picture of the two 
parents which deserves a place by the side of the less 
respectful portraits which history has handed down 
to us of both in their public capacities. 'The 
^ood Princess,' she writes, e has taken her chastise- 
ment heavily ; the first relief of that sorrow pro- 
ceeded from calming of a greater, the Prince being 
so ill of a fever. I never saw any relation more 
moving than that of seeing them together. Some- 
times they wept, sometimes they mourned in words, 
and hand-in-hand, — he sick in bed, she the carefullest 
nurse to him that can be imagined.' 

Her relations with her father and step-mother are 



ANNE. 453 

a less pleasing subject. James was one of those 
fathers who are profoundly convinced that an 
excessive indulgence to their children (especially 
when young) should command throughout life not 
only a gratitude corresponding in kind, but an ab- 
solute devotion in the most important matters. He 
seemed to expect that his eldest daughter, in the un- 
broken correspondence which he exacted from her 
until the Revolution severed them for ever, should 
write always with a sense of the paramount claims 
of a father over those of a husband. So with Anne, al- 
though he was himself sacrificing his family interests 
to his mistaken idea of his Religious duty, and his 
theory of the absolute authority of the Crown, he could 
not for a moment recognise the right of his daughter 
to obey the dictates of her religious convictions, which 
identified the success of his cause with the destruction 
of her own cherished Church. He could never see in 
her the duty-obeying woman, but only the ungrateful 
and unfilial child. Anne's motives in joining with 
her sister and brother-in-law against her father were, 
no doubt, mixed ones, in which duty only formed one 
ingredient. She had never been on pleasant terms 
of intimacy with her step-mother, and towards her 
father her feelings had, in consequence, even from a 
domestic point of view, become much diminished in 
warmth. The difficult problem of the duties of a 
father between the children of a former marriage and 
the wife of his subsequent choice was scarcely likely 



454 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

to receive a satisfactory solution in the case of persons 
with the peculiarities and intellectual inferiority of 
James and Anne. James, like other fathers in a 
similar position, seems to have thought it the impe- 
rative duty of his children to fall in love with any 
woman he might himself prefer, and to continue un- 
diminished towards himself that affection which, in 
the eyes of his children, he now bestowed on them in 
only a secondary degree. Mary of Modena, so far as 
we can trace her action, does not seem to have been 
a harsh or wilfully unjust step-mother, and appears, 
at any rate, to have sought to conciliate the affections 
of her step-daughter. But Anne, previously dis- 
posed to anticipate ill-treatment, under the influence 
of a nature especially sensitive on small points of 
ceremonial and observance, was only too ready to 
misconstrue the acts of the Queen, who, whether a 
-judicious, was in this respect certainly not a 
successful, diplomatist. Anne revenged herself for 
supposed slights and ill-will by pouring out her 
complaints and innuendoes against her step-mother 
in letters to her sister Mary ; and in these letters her 
father and his second wife figure under the un- 
ceremonious names of 6 Mansel ' and £ Mansel's wife.' 
Mary, however, as we learn from Anne's own com- 
plaint, would take no notice of these insinuations 
against the unwelcome relative, though she was 
almost as little inclined towards her as her sister, and 
had a keener sense of her dangerous influence over 



ANNE. 455 

James as an ardent Roman Catholic. Anne had 
evidently a certain pleasure in fancying herself a 
victim of domestic injustice, and it is ludicrous to 
read her expressions of surprise that she had not yet 
been persecuted for her religious belief, and her 
confident anticipations of the coming trial to her 
faith and constancy. The announcement of the 
probable birth of a child, which, should it prove a 
boy, would shut out both her sister and herself from 
the succession to the Crown, provoked the jealous sus- 
picions of Anne to the utmost, and she had evidently 
made up her mind, under any circumstances, to dis- 
believe in a boy. The excessive jubilation of the 
Eoman Catholic party at the event, and the great 
importance to their cause of such an occurrence at 
this crisis, were facts quite sufficient to carry conviction 
for the time to such a mind as that of Anne. Indeed, 
joined to other circumstances, they did the same 
to those whose intellects were better capable of 
estimating evidence, as well as to the great mass of 
the nation. At a subsequent period, indeed, these 
suspicions gave way before other and stronger feelings, 
and before she was called upon to ascend the throne 
herself, Anne had recognised in mind and in words 
the unlucky Eoman Catholic heir as her true brother. 
At the crisis of the Revolution, however, she acted 
under the combined influence of a deep sense of her 
religious duty, of a strong prejudice against her step- 
mother, and of an angry belief that the rights of her 



456 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

sister and herself had been outraged by an iniquitous 
Popish conspiracy. 

There can be but little doubt that the influence 
of Sarah Churchill had been exerted to increase the 
bias of Anne against her step-mother, and to inflame 
her suspicions respecting her supposed brother. The 
same influence was from that time directed to the 
fostering of ill-will between the Princess and her 
sister and brother-in-law. The favourite thought 
her influence insecure if it were shared in any degree 
with another person, and demanded and long enforced 
a perfect monopoly not only of intimate friendship, 
but of ordinary friendly intercourse. She probably 
knew that Mary of Orange had endeavoured to warn 
Anne against her growing influence, and this she 
would never forgive, even had not the intellectual ca- 
pacity of Mary herself rendered her a dangerous rival 
in the guidance of Anne. The unavowed but natural 
rivalry between William the Third and Marlborough 
added largely to the growth of an ill-will between 
their wives, each of whom was a most devout admirer 
of her husband's abilities, and equally jealous for 
his interests and reputation, though their conjugal 
devotion manifested itself in the one case in passive 
obedience, in the other in a shrewish tyranny. The 
baseness and treachery which were so strangely 
blended in Marlborough with such noble qualities 
brought on his public disgrace. Mary insisted on 
Anne abandoning the society of the wife of a man 



ANNE. 457 

thus situated. The best as well as the weakest parts 
of Anne's character were roused in opposition to such 
a demand, and the natural obstinacy of both sisters 
on certain points, increased perhaps by the know- 
ledge of Anne's penitential communications with her 
father, rendered the breach almost if not quite 
irreparable. It is still a disputed point whether a 
reconciliation was effected when Queen Mary lay on 
her death-bed. The death of Mary, however, seems 
to have softened the heart of Anne towards her 
brother-in-law, and at the death of William she was 
on fairly good terms with him, and Marlborough had 
been pardoned his offences and restored to outward 
favour. 

The accession of Anne herself to the throne placed 
her, as has been already said, in a most painful 
dilemma between conflicting views of duty. On the 
one hand, stood the rights of her now acknowledged 
brother, and her own theory of indefeasible heredi- 
tary right; on the other, her sense of duty to the 
Church of England, strengthened by her own 
antipathy to Soman Catholicism. The scale was 
turned against an abdication by the active opposition 
of Marlborough and his wife, and the persistent 
though passive resistance of George of Denmark, 
added to the Queen's own natural timidity. This 
last feature in her character had really great influence 
over the course of politics during her reign. It pre- 
cipitated her first estrangement from the Tory chiefs 



i 



458 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

whom she had summoned to her counsels at her 
accession, but whose violent course with respect to 
the Nonconformists alarmed her as to a possible 
renewal of civil convulsions. The somewhat violent 
conduct of the Whigs, when in their turn they pos- 
sessed the power, joined to the distrust which the 
Queen entertained of their attachment to the 
established Church, in some degree nerved her to 
the effort to shake off the yoke of the Duchess of 
Marlborough. The conduct of the favourite since 
the accession of her mistress to the throne had been 
almost incredibly foolish. She had always ruled over 
Anne by open dictation, but this had hitherto been 
blended with affectionate acknowledgment of favours' 
had respected outward appearances, and had not 
humiliated the Princess in the eyes of the public. 
But Sarah Churchill had indulged her own insolence 
of spirit so much that it was no longer under her 
own control, and instead of recognising in the change 
from Princess to Queen a reason for softening the 
tone of her dictation and relaxing her claim to a 
monopoly of confidence and favour, she sought to 
secure her power by increased and less guarded 
imperiousness, by additional exorbitancy of demands, 
and by a string of jealous and bitter reproaches 
which made her society and her letters a constant 
source of vexation and discomfort to the Queen 
instead of a pleasure and a support. She fell a 
victim at last to her own jealous selfishness. Fearing 



ANNE. 459 

the influence of any woman at all resembling herself 
in character, she placed near the Queen only those 
whose inferiority of intellect and seeming- humility 
appeared to afford a guarantee against their becom- 
ing her rivals ; but she never anticipated that to one 
who, like Anne, was thoroughly disgusted with the 
opposite qualities as exemplified in the Duchess 
herself, these signs of a gentler and less powerful 
character would have an especial attraction. For 
a long time, however, Anne dared only intrigue 
secretly against her haughty tyrant, and even when 
the breach was a declared one, she encountered the 
remonstrances of the fallen favourite with the de- 
fensive attitude of dogged snllenness. The follow- 
ing description of a scene between the Queen and the 
Duchess, though it may have been somewhat em- 
bellished by the witty malignity of the latter, is 
probably substantially a faithful picture, and is too 
characteristic to be omitted : — 

Upon the 6th of April, 1710, I followed my letter to Kensington, so 
soon that Her Majesty could not write another harsh letter, which I 
found she intended. I sent a page of the backstairs to acquaint Her 
Majesty that I was there. She was alone ; however, the man stayed 
longer than was usual upon such occasions, and then told me the Queen 
would have me come in. As soon as I opened the door, she said she 
was going to write to me. ' Upon what, Madam ? ' said I. 

The Queen — ' I did not open your letter till just now, and I was going 
to write to you.' 

Lady Marlborough — ' Was there anything in it, Madam, that you had 
a mind to answer? ' 

The Queen — ' I think there is nothing you can have to say, but you 
can write it.' 



460 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Lady Marlborough — ' Wq^ti't your Majesty give me leave to tell it 
you?' 

The Queen — ' Whatever you have to say you may write it.' 
Lady Marlborough — 'Indeed, I can't tell how to put such sort of 
things into writing.' 

The Queen — ' You may put it into writing.' 

Lady Marlborough — ' Won't your Majesty allow me to tell it you, 
now I am here ? ' 

The Queen — ' You may put it into writing.' 

Lady Marlborough — 'I believe your Majesty never did so hard thing 
to anj'body as to refuse to hear them speak, even the meanest person 
that ever desired it.' 

The Queen— 'Yes, I do bid people put what they have to say in 
writing, when I have a mind to it.' 

Lady Marlborough — ' I have nothing to say, Madam, upon the subject 
that is so uneasy to you; that person is not, that I know of, at all con- 
cerned in the account that I would give you, which I can't be quiet till 
I have told you.' 

The Queen — ' You may put it into writing.' 

After a long expostulatory monologue from the 
Duchess, the Queen retires towards the door re- 
turning no answers to the impassioned appeals of 
the Duchess but the following : — - You said you 
desire no answer, and I shall give you none.' ' I will 
go out of the room.' c You said you desire no answer, 
and I shall give you none.' And so the interview 
comes to an end. 

Once emancipated from her bondage to the Duchess 
of Marlborough, the Queen was determined never 
again to be the passive tool of any of her servants, 
and her mode of asserting her independence illustrates 
well the inferiority of her intellect. Incapable, really, 
of judging on the most serious matters, and self- 
distrustful on nearly all matters, she could not or did 



ANNE. 461 

not venture to discuss them with her advisers on the 
basis of a rational argument, but met them all alike 
with uniform objection and delay. Swift tells us 
that ' the Queen grew so jealous upon the change of 
her servants, that often, from the fear of being 
imposed on and over-caution, she would impose upon 
herself. She took a delight in refusing those who 
were thought to have had the greatest power with 
her, even in the most reasonable things, nor would 
she let them be done until she fell into the humour 

of it herself.' 6 When a person happened to 

be recommended to her as useful for her service or 
proper to be obliged, perhaps, after a long delay, she 
would consent ; but if the treasurer offered at the 
same time a warrant or other instrument to her, 
already prepared, in order to be signed, because he 
presumed on her consent beforehand, she would not ; 
and thus the affair would sometimes be for several 
weeks together, although the thing were ever so 
reasonable, or that even the public suffered by the 
delay.' The same writer intimates that this curious 
mode of self-assertion on the part of the Queen had 
the important result of baffling the plans of those 
among her ministers who were anxious to pave the 
way by preparatory measures for the succession of the 
6 Chevalier de St. George,' as the legitimate Stuart 
Prince was styled. The hesitation and delays of 
Anne left them at her death unorganised and helpless 
spectators of the rapid and determined measures of 



462 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

their political opponents for the peaceful proclama- 
tion and acknowledgment of George of Hanover. In 
this particular case, the Queen's humour was 
strengthened by her natural timidity, which led her 
to shrink from committing herself to any decided step 
in favour of her brother. To this was added the 
dislike entertained by herself, in common with many 
sovereigns, to the presence and public recognition of 

successor. Both the Protestant Tory party and the 
Whigs had in turn experienced her grave displeasure 
at a proposal that the Electoral family should be 
invited to England ; and, in the case of the Chevalier, 
Anne could not free her mind from the additional 
terror that his presence in the United Kingdom might 
be speedily followed by her own deposition in his 
favour. She could not be blind to the fact that a 
recognition of his claims to the throne in any form, 
however contingent, implied a confession of usurp- 
ation on her part which must seriously undermine her 
authority. 

The portrait which I have endeavoured to draw, as 
must be evident, is rather that of a somewhat com- 
mon-place private individual than of a sovereign. 
Yet Anne had in public, at any rate, the external 
bearing of a queen, and she possessed one or two 
truly queenly qualities, which raise her memory above 
entire contempt. She had a high idea of the dignity 
of the royal position, and an even exaggerated sense 
of the importance of State ceremonial and the stage 



ANNE. 463 

effects of Royalty. Her countenance, though heavy 
and devoid of the charm of intelligence, was comely 
and even impressive from its repose. Her expression 
as well as her demeanour, in public, was generally 
pleasing and gracious. But she had ideas of Royalty 
which went beyond mere ceremonial demeanour. 
Her sense of duty, though narrow, was strong ; and 
she had a real affection for her subjects as such, and 
an unselfish desire to promote their happiness, which 
could not fail to call forth a corresponding feeling 
of attachment and love on their part. This feeling- 
was well e^yressed, as in the case of Wordsworth's 
6 Shepherd Lord,' in the title of ' Good Queen Anne,' 
by which she was popularly known. In the reigns of 
her successors her memory retained its hold over the 
popular sympathies, and her kindly and charitable 
disposition was looked back to with fond regret. 
Anne was selfish only in trifles, in great matters she 
was generous and self-sacrificing. Her munificence 
and her private as well as her public charities were 
truly Royal. Her attachment to the Church of 
England was with her more than a mere article of 
faith, and received strong practical exemplification in 
her sacrifice of the First Fruits, and in the fund for 
the endowment of the poorer clergy, which is still 
known as c Queen Anne's Bountv.' If she was 
occasionally petulant and acrimonious, this want of 
amiability proceeded from inferiority of mind rather 
than from natural disposition. 



464 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Her true nature, if' dull and incapable of the higher 
moods of feeling, was gentle and inoffensive. Her 
judgment was often distorted by prejudice, under the 
influence of which she became anxiously suspicious, 
while in some instances she showed an unforgiving 
temper and an implacable resentment. But she was 
in: general long-suffering and considerate, and her 
bitterest resentments were free from vindictiveness. 
She could be generous even in her hatred, as her un- 
deserved bounty to the Duchess of Marlborough after 
the disgrace of that favourite sufficiently testifies. 
Perhaps, if we consider the beneficial influence over 
the mind of a nation of a really good though weak 
character in the prominent situation of sovereign, we 
may feel that we have undervalued the significance of 
Anne's personal qualities, and assigned her a lower 
place among our Sovereigns than is warranted in 
fact. But however we may congratulate ourselves 
on the fortunate manner in which events actually 
developed themselves, notwithstanding her feebleness 
of mind and her peculiar prejudices, it is impossible 
to shut our eyes to what might have been tbe 
consequences of this dangerous weakness ; and while 
we are willing to acquiesce in the contemporary 
verdict which affirmed her essential goodness, we are 
compelled to deny altogether in her case any claim to 
the rank of a great sovereign. 



465 



GEORGE TEE FIRST. 

Lord Stanhope introduces his notice of the reign 
of George the First with the following remark : — e A 
hard fate that the enthronement of a stranger should 
have been the only means to secure our liberties and 
laws ! Almost a century of foreign masters ! Such 
has been the indirect, but the undoubted effect of 
the Great Rebellion. Charles and James, driven 
abroad by the tumults at home, received a French 
education and pursued a French policy. Their 
Government was overthrown by a Dutchman ; George 
the First and George the Second were entirely 
German ; and thus, from 1660 to 1760, when a truly 
English monarch once more ascended the throne, 
the reign of Queen Anne appears the only exception 
to a foreign dominion.' The foreign birth and 
feelings of the first two Georges presented themselves 
to the mind of the greatest of English satirists of the 
present age in a somewhat different point of view. 
' It was lucky for us,' says Mr. Thackeray, ' that our 
first Georges were not more high-minded men ; espe- 
cially fortunate that they loved Hanover so much as 

H H 



466 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

to leave England to have her own way. Our chief 
troubles began when we got a king who gloried 
in the name of Briton, and being born in the 
country, proposed to rule it. He was no more fit to 
govern England than his grandfather and great- 
grandfather, who did not try. It was righting 
itself during their occupation. The dangerous, noble 
old spirit of Cavalier loyalty was dying out ; the 
stately old English High Church was emptying 
itself ; the questions dropping which, on one side and 
the other — the side of loyalty, prerogative, Church 
and King : the side of right, truth, civil and religious 
freedom — had set generations of brave men in arms. 
By the time when George the Third came to the 
throne the combat between loyalty and liberty was 
come to an end, and Charles Edward, old, tipsy, and 
childless, was dying in Italy.' There is much truth 
in both these views of the position, though I can 
hardly acquiesce unreservedly in either. It by no 
means follows that had the House of Stuart escaped 
its first exile, the English character of the Monarchy 
would have been secured in anything but the mere 
name. Charles the Second, in accordance with his 
father's marriage-articles, would have been placed 
for education at an early age in the hands of his 
Erench mother and her foreign priests and French- 
ified counsellors at Court; the influence of France, 
not only of her policy, but of her social habits and 
national stamp, would have shaped the future not 



GEOKGE THE EIEST. 467 

only of the King, but of the people of England, and 
a divergence of sentiment between the two would 
have been avoided, not by the King being more 
English, but by the nation becoming more French. 
From this, at any rate, with its probable consequences, 
the 'Great Rebellion' saved us ; and while the nation- 
alism of the dynasty was suspended for a century, 
the continuity of English feelings in the nation re- 
mained unbroken. On the other hand, it can only 
be looked upon as a poor consolation that a civil 
conflict between King and People was avoided during 
the reigns of the two first princes of the House of 
Hanover only by the absence of a common interest. 

But whatever may be our judgment as to the 
national gain or loss involved in the accession of the 
House of Hanover, there can be no doubt as to the 
very trying and invidious position which that family 
was called upon to occupy in ascending the Throne 
of England. 

To begin with, its connection with the dynasty 
which it succeeded was too remote to exercise any 
perceptible influence on the sympathies of the nation. 
The associations in the English popular mind which 
had, in the early part of the seventeenth century, 
gathered round the name and cause of the beautiful 
Qpeen of Bohemia — the representative of the Pro- 
testant cause on the Continent of Europe — had been 
much weakened by the more recent memories of her 
younger sons Eupert and Maurice ; nor had the 

H H 2 



468 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

conduct of their elder brother Charles been such as to 
remove the prejudice thus engendered. The English- 
men of the early part of the eighteenth century were 
called upon to renew, if they could, these faded im- 
pressions of an old attachment in favour of the son 
of the youngest sister of these Princes of the Civil 
War period, a man of fifty- four years of age, who had 
not visited England since the reign of Charles the 
Second ; whose father, whose education, whose asso- 
ciates, and whose habits were all German, who could 
not speak English, and who, if he understood any- 
thing of English politics was entirely ignorant of 
English feelings and modes of thought. Nor was 
there anything in his previous career, as there was in 
that of William the Third, to command the admi- 
ration of Englishmen in default of their affections. 
He had been merely known as a petty electoral 
prince, whose only public appearances, in the Euro- 
pean contest against Louis the Fourteenth, had 
indicated his courage and sense of honour rather 
than his capacity. William — if a foreigner and un- 
popular himself — had at his side a devoted wife, who 
was both English and popular, and who seemed to 
continue rather than to break the dynastic associ- 
ations of Englishmen. But Sophia of Hanover, the 
mother of George the First, was almost as completely 
a foreigner in habits and feelings as himself; and if 
she had achieved a European reputation as a highly 
accomplished woman, and a liberal and wise patron 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 469 

of learned men, seemed from her advanced age a 
relic of the past rather than a hope of the future. 
[Nor, while herself both a statesman and a scholar, 
did she take common pains to give her son a decent 
education. In short, George the First landed in this 
country as its recognised King, deficient in almost 
every qualification which could recommend him* 
prospectively to the sympathies of his new subjects. 
JSfor were his own prepossessions with respect to them 
more favourable. His only personal experiences of 
England had been gathered during the most profli- 
gate and corrupt period of English history, and his 
more mature impressions of English principles and 
, honour had been drawn from his experiences of such 
men as Churchill and Harley. Can it be wondered 
at that George of Hanover received the news of his 
accession to the English Crown without any mani- 
festation of pleasure, and showed little alacrity in 
seeking the shores of a country of whose inhabitants 
he had so indifferent an opinion, and which, he had 
reason to believe, welcomed him only as a necessary 
pis-aller, and from a cold calculation of its own 
interest alone, without the smallest consideration for 
his personal predilections ? This relative position of 
King and People at the accession of the House of 
Hanover must be borne in mind, if we would judge 
fairly of the conduct of both during the years that 
followed. But for this, on the one hand, the King 
might appear to be inexcusably wrapt up in his own 



470 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

personal preferences for Hanover, and ungratefully 
blind to his responsibilities as King of England ; and, 
on the other hand, the English nation might be 
justly subject to a charge of indifference to their own 
cause and failure of duty to one who had assumed 
his difficult position only at their express call. As 
it was, neither King nor People can escape from just 
blame for their respective conduct, but this conduct 
is explained, and the blame to some degree lightened 
by the complete want of mutual sympathy. The 
character, indeed, of George would have been a very 
exceptional one, and he would have been peculiarly 
happy in the qualities of his mind, if he had over- 
come the inherent difficulties of his position, and 
obtained the hearts instead of merely the sufferance 
of his English subjects. But such was not the case. 
George Louis, Elector of Hanover, or (more cor- 
rectly) of Brunswick and Liineburg, was the repre- 
sentative of a branch of the Guelph family, which 
had already blended with the royal blood of England 
by the marriage of Henry the Lion with Matilda, 
daughter of Henry the Second of England. So far 
as blood, therefore, was concerned, he represented on 
his father's as well as on his mother's side both the 
Norman and Saxon royal families of this country. 
He was born at Hanover on the 28th of May, 1660 — 
the day before Charles the Second made his triumphal 
entry into London at the Restoration — significant 
dates in the history of the fortunes of the elder line 



GEORGE THE FIRST. 471 

of the House of Stuart. His subsequent visit to 
England is said to have been connected with some 
project for marrying him to the Princess Anne, whose 
successor he was destined to become, instead of her 
husband. He was actually married to his cousin 
Sophia Dorothea of Zell, a match, it would seem, in 
which the inclinations of both bridegroom and bride 
were sacrificed to considerations of family policy. 
Sophia Dorothea appears to have been a volatile, 
excitable woman, of small principle and strong- 
passions. These she indulged, there can be little 
reasonable doubt, criminally with an early favourite, 
the unprincipled adventurer, Count Philip von 
Konigsmarck, whose elder brother had become 
notorious in England for the murder of Mr. Thynne. 
The intrigue was detected — through the jealousy of 
a mistress of Konigsmarck — by the Elector Ernest 
Augustus, father of George, during his son's absence 
from Hanover; and the assassination of Konigsmarck, 
and the imprisonment of Sophia Dorothea which 
followed, were the acts of the old Elector alone, 
though the restraint to which his wife was subjected 
was continued by George after his accession to the 
Electorate. His wife's flighty and violent disposition 
had long disgusted him with her, and he had no 
sentiment in him to mitigate his sense of justice. 
There appear to have been at least two types of 
character in the House of Brunswick — both strongly 
marked, and alternating in the members of the 



472 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

family. The one was a gay, jovial, somewhat bois- 
terous, but affable and genial temperament, much 
liked, but little respected and little trustworthy. 
To this type the father of George approximated. 
Had he, instead of his son, been the Parliamentary 
heir to the English Crown, he would probably have 
misgoverned England not a little, and been a reckless 
waster of her wealth, but infinitely more popular than 
either of the first two Georges. The other type was 
that of a quiet, precise, frugal, and homely disposi- 
tion, with a strong sense of duty, a strict regard for 
truth, and a tendency to the insufferable martinet. 
To this latter type the character of George the First 
was assimilated. Self-will was the salient point of 
the former type — obstinacy of the latter. Thought- 
less injustice was the besetting failing of the one, 
— cold and rigid justice carried to the verge (if not 
beyond) of brutality the accompaniment of the other. 
The less the truth was known about the one the more 
it was liked ; the less the other was really known the 
more it was disliked. The one inspired incautious 
sympathy, the other extorted unwilling respect. 
George the First had a clear head, and even a strong 
head within the range to which his mental capacity 
limited his powers of observation and decision. He 
was an extremely well-intentioned man within the 
compass of his idea of his duty. He was an excellent 
man of business also on the same scale and under the 
same conditions. The same was true of his ideas of 



GKEOKGE THE FIKST. 473 

justice and clemency ; there was no feeling of revenge 
about the one or of generosity about the other. The 
range of his understanding was very limited. His 
mind was thoroughly unanalytical in its reasoning ; 
he saw everything in its simple concrete form. He 
was a true pre-Raffaellite in the absence of atmo- 
sphere and visual proportion in the pictures which he 
drew in his own mind of men and things ; he hated 
such and such men and such and such things — he 
strongly preferred such and such others. Their re- 
spective greatness or insignificance made no difference 
in the intensity of his feelings. Habit had over such 
a character immense influence. The unaccustomed 
freshness of the English oysters afflicted him, perhaps, 
quite as much as the unaccustomed forms of English 
loyalty and disloyalty. His ways were those of a 
man of habit, crystallised by a life of half a century. 
Both the peculiar virtues and peculiar vices of the 
English people were strange to him and incompre- 
hensible. Yet he had no irritable desire to reform 
them to his own esteemed pattern ; he felt it no part 
of his duty to turn England into a Hanover. All 
that he wanted to do was to perform such functions 
of government as were considered essential to the 
position of King of England, which he had under- 
taken ; and in other respects to see and know as little 
of England and the English as possible, and get away 
from England to Hanover whenever he could find a 
legitimate excuse. He acquiesced in most of the 



474 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

measures submitted to his approbation by the Wal- 
poles and Townshends and Stanhopes, who, he 
thought, had the most common sense and the best 
apology for principle among English statesmen ; but 
he did so in the spirit of one who sees no particular 
harm in a suggestion made by others better acquain- 
ted with the subject-matter, rather than of one who 
is sufficiently interested to give the matter much 
thought. He initiated nothing himself except where 
the interests or supposed interests of Hanover were 
concerned. On that subject he had a strong opinion, 
and was almost immovably obstinate in his adherence 
to it. In other things he was an intelligent and 
well-meaning roi faineant. His original choice of 
the Whig statesmen had been based partly on his 
knowledge of them, gained during the various nego- 
tiations while he was still in Hanover, partly on his 
deep conviction that had it not been for the exertions 
of them and of their party, he would still have been 
merely Elector of Hanover. And little as he cared 
for England in itself, he had a sense of property in 
his succession to its Crown which equalled in ten- 
acity the most intense theory of right-divine. ISTo 
Norman and no Plantagenet could have kept a closer 
grip (in reality) on the sceptre of England, and no 
Anglo-Saxon could have displayed the strength of 
immobility more clearly than the first two Georges. 
This resolution not to be expelled, coupled oddly with 
a strong desire to go, would probably have sustained 



GEOKGE THE FIEST. 475 

the first George on the throne, even had Mar and 
Derwentwater's enterprises become much more for- 
midable than the j did, as it alone kept the second 
George on his throne when Charles Edward reached 
Derby. 

The temperament of George the First, as I have 
already intimated, was phlegmatic. His temper was 
generally calm and equable, but his occasional fits of 
passion were in proportion violent and ungovernable. 
Without being naturally implacable, he required to 
have a good reason given for forgiving any one, just 
as he believed it impossible any one could have 
become obnoxious to him without real provocation 
received. One of his least reputable quarrels was 
with his own son, George Augustus, Prince of Wales, 
not very long after his own accession to the English 
Crown. The ostensible cause of the quarrel was 
trivial enough ; probably the seeds of estrangement 
had been sown for some time. Jealousy of the 
comparative popularity of his son in England during 
his Regency for his father may have contributed to 
the breach ; and possibly the recollection that he was 
Sophia Dorothea's son, who was keen in defending" 
his mother's reputation, may have inspired distrust. 
During the continuance of the quarrel the conduct of 
neither father nor son was very seemly ; but at length, 
in 1720, through the mediation of counsellors and 
friends, the breach was at least outwardly healed ; all 
England took the opportunity of getting drunk — for 



470 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

joy ; and the officers of the two Courts, according to 
one of the contemporary newspapers, publicly 'kissed, 
embraced, and congratulated one another upon this 
auspicious reconciliation.' 

The features of King George were heavy and 
rather uninteresting, but not unintelligent — the in- 
telligence of a shrewd but narrow-minded cynic. He 
had little dignity either in his person or bearing, and 
his dislike of display and public ceremonial did much 
to impair his popularity. He had been a kind, 
considerate ruler in Hanover, and was much beloved 
and respected by all classes in that part of his do- 
minions ; but though he wished well to the English 
people, he neither understood nor liked them, and 
sought refuge from them in the society of Germans of 
a low social class and tastes. The proportion which 
the grossness of the tastes and habits which George 
brought with him from Hanover bore to that which 
was sanctioned by the contemporary standard of 
English society has probably been somewhat exag- 
gerated by writers of the present day. The society 
was not very refined which produced and tolerated 
the writings of Swift. The French varnish indeed 
under which vice appeared in the reign of Charles 
the Second had worn off, and they who were ac- 
customed to what was talked and done in England 
in ' good society ' during the reigns of William and 
Anne had little pretence for lifting up their hands 
and eyes at the grossness of George of Hanover and 



GEOEGE THE FIEST. 477 

his courtiers. But it is the characteristic of all 
social offenders to hate exaggerations of their own 
offences, and the somewhat coarser daub presented 
by the foreign artist offended the moral sestheticism 
of the English fine-gentleman. The conventional 
reticences and proprieties were not the same in the 
two countries, and a transgression on such a j)oint as 
this was more keenly felt than the substantial de- 
linquency. George had the conventional morality as 
well as the conventional ideas of good-breeding of 
his own country. The Hanoverian Court version of 
the commandments agreed pretty much with that 
which had been long established in England, in 
viewing with indulgence the sins of seduction and 
adultery in its princes and great men; but then 
George brought over to England two foreign mis- 
tresses, one of whom was uncomely in English eyes 
for her height, and the other for her breadth, and 
both of whom loved the English money of their royal 
patron as if they had had a right to it as English 
women. So both they and their patron were ridiculed 
and hated and vilified by the advocates of legitimate 
English immorality. In truth, the conduct and 
Courts of the first Georges may have fostered the 
grossness of English society, but they certainly did 
not originate it. 

Some qualities at least George the Eirst had which 
recommend him to our respect as an English Sove- 
reign. He desired to do justice, he kept his word 



473 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

sacredly, he had unquestionable physical courage, 
and he was morally brave so far as his lights allowed 
him to see wherein moral courage lay. If his un- 
derstanding was limited and his education sadly 
deficient, he had the sense to choose able and well- 
meaning councillors, and wisdom enough to seek 
their advice, and generally to act on it when given. 
If he was but an indifferent Christian he was at any 
rate an honest King. 



479 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 

If it was the /ate of George the First to attach to his 
person few, if any, warm admirers among his English 
subjects, it was the misfortune of his son and suc- 
cessor — George Augustus — to evoke an amount of 
personal animosity which renders it difficult in the 
present day to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion 
respecting his character. That personal ill-feeling 
and personal resentment have much to do with most 
of the estimates of him which are preserved in the 
memoir- writers of the period is evident, if only from 
the fact that these accounts are so often self-in- 
consistent and incapable of being blended into an 
harmonious whole. Nor is the character of any one 
of the three chief authorities for the ordinary esti- 
mates of George the Second such as to induce us to 
place much reliance on their unsupported statements, 
or the judgments which they chose to pass upon 
their contemporaries. All three were shrewd men 
of the world and clever delineators of men and man- 
ners, and as such possess a certain value as histori- 
cal witnesses ; but all three were also men of strong 



480 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

prejudices, and rather lax ideas as to the boundaries 
of truth and falsehood. Horace Walpole is known to 
everyone as the ideal of a thorough -paced gossip, 
with whom the goodness of a story is the first and 
main point, and its truth a very secondary considera- 
tion, and who would never scruple for a moment to 
colour or even invent where his prejudices prompted, 
or the completeness of the story seemed to call for 
the addition. The celebrated Lord Chesterfield, who 
had been a star in the firmament of Leicester House 
when George the Second was himself Prince of Wales 
and the centre of an Opposition Court, and who again 
for a time filled a similar position in the Court of 
Frederick, the succeeding Prince of Wales, has left 
us a ' Character ' of his earlier patron which, on the 
whole, is more candid than could have been expected, 
though the animus of the writer peeps forth unmis- 
takably in some of the paragraphs. But Lord Hervey, 
his contemporary and rival, warns us against placing 
trust in Chesterfield, whom he describes as utterly 
unscrupulous in his statements, and constantly sa- 
crificing truth to epigrammatic effect. As to Lord 
Hervey himself, he has painted bis own character in 
unmistakable colours in his c Memoirs of the Eeign 
of George the Second ; ' and Mr. Thackeray expresses 
in strong terms the horror with which this self- 
portraiture filled his mind. We cannot be too much 
on our guard against assuming as correct the cha- 
racters drawn by men so brilliant and so little 



aEOBGE THE SECOND. 481 

fettered by conscientious scruples as these were, and 
it is better to be contented with the more trustworthy 
hints of a much better man, though less pointed 
writer, Earl Waldegrave, and with tamer deductions 
from established facts, than to give a false interest 
to this sketch by adopting these clever but doubtful 
representations. 

The present Lord Stanhope pronounces George 
the Second to have been inferior to his father in 
intellect, but Lord Chesterfield's remark seems to 
bring us nearer to the truth : — c He had not better 
parts than his father, but much stronger animal 
spirits, which made him produce and communicate 
himself more.' Neither father nor son can justly lay 
claim to more than a very moderate amount of ability, 
but the range of George the Second's mind was much 
greater than his father's, and if he judged less soberly 
and soundly in some respects than the phlegmatic 
and precise George Louis did within his narrower 
sphere of thought, he entertained much more readily 
the possibility of outlying considerations beyond 
the boundaries of his own personal experience, and 
took an interest in a much greater number of things 
in which other people than himself were interested. 
But this very circumstance was disadvantageous to 
George the Second in any public comparison between 
his ability and that of his father, for the wider the 
area over which the sympathies of the former ex- 
tended, and the greater and the more diversified the 

ii 



482 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

objects on which his intellectual abilities were exer- 
cised, the more apparent became the poorness of 
those abilities, and the more salient any peculi- 
arities of manner and disposition. The greater re- 
serve of George the First also (however unpleasing 
and unpopular in itself) had not been without its 
effect in preventing the extent of his intellectual 
incapacity from being gauged. A silent man has 
always great advantages in this respect over a man 
of familiar and more communicative temperament. 
Not only does he not expose himself, but he is 
credited with a positive amount of wisdom to which 
he is really quite unentitled. But in George the 
Second the nature of his father had been materially 
modified by the irritable and impulsive temperament 
of his mother. He resembled his father, indeed, in 
his excellent business habits, his methodical arrange- 
ment of his time, and in that subservience to the 
force of habit which made Lord Hervey say of him 
that ' he seemed to think his having done a thing 
to-day an unanswerable reason for his doing it to- 
morrow.' Like his father, he was thoroughly right- 
minded in his intentions with respect to both the 
public and individuals. Lord Chesterfield admits 
that 'his first natural movements were always on 
the side of justice and truth,' though he avers ' they 
were often warped by ministerial influence, or the 
secret twitches of avarice.' The former of these 
limitations, of course, simply means that he some- 



GEOKGE THE SECOND. 483 

times followed the counsels of his constitutional 
advisers instead of those of Lord Chesterfield. This 
writer adds that George 'was generally reckoned 
ill-natured, which indeed he was not. He had rather 
an unfeeling than a bad heart ; but I never observed 
any settled malevolence in him, though his sudden 
passions, which were frequent, made him say things 
which in cooler moments he would not have exe- 
cuted. His heart always seemed to me to be in a 
state of perfect neutrality between hardness and 
tenderness.' There was equal courage in both the 
Georges, equal presence of mind in the face of great 
dangers, and a similar natural steadiness and per- 
tinacity of purpose. But there were also marked 
differences between father and son. The mind of 
George the First was habitually at rest, and his 
passions usually completely under his control ; the 
i mind of George the Second was always restless in a 
greater or less degree, and his passions at the mercy 
of every passing occurrence, however trivial. Though 
he thought much more about great things than his 
father, he was much more disturbed about little 
matters. This, Lord Chesterfield asserts, he was 
told by the King himself, and he confirms it 
by his own observation. 'I have often,' he says, 
6 seen him put so much out of humour at his private 
levee by a mistake or blunder of a valet de chambre, 
that the gaping crowd admitted to his public levee 

i i 2 



484 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

have, from his looks and silence, concluded that lie 
had jnst received some dreadful news.' 

His avaricej which is often spoken of by contem- 
poraries, seems to have been due to the same canse. 
He was naturally economical, and he felt with 
disproportionate keenness all the smaller demands 
on his pocket, and especially resented any unusual 
or extraordinary appeals to his bounty. He had no 
idea of any additional claim upon his generosity, on 
the ground of his royal position. He acted in the 
spirit of a trustee whose accounts had to be audited 
in chancery. Yet his love of saving never stood in 
the way of what he himself believed to be a duty to 
himself or the country; and to secure the success 
of what he considered a true and necessary public 
policy he was even reckless in his expenditure. 
Under this very parsimonious sovereign the National 
Debt was considerably more than doubled, and the 
annual parliamentary grant rose from three and a 
half millions to nineteen. And this was nearly all 
public expenditure. The King's private expenditure 
was regulated by strict economy, and his mode of 
living was simple and frugal in the extreme. There 
was much plundering, no doubt, by ministers and 
courtiers, and a considerable sum was spent in 
governing by corruption ; but the great increase 
arose from the natural ambition and enterprise of 
the King in his foreign policy. He was no doubt, 
to some extent, influenced in this policy by his 



GEOKGE THE SECOND. 485 

interest in the fortunes and position of Hanover, his 
love for which principality was scarcely, if at all, 
inferior to that of his father. But his favourite 
schemes embracod far wider considerations, and 
tended to much more serious entanglement in the 
general affairs of the Continent than were demanded 
by his interests as Elector of Hanover alone. He 
was always too much in earnest and too eager about 
everything which he undertook to confine himself 
within any such limits. It tasked all the sagacity 
and adroitness of Eobert Walpole to impose his let- 
alone, spend-at-home policy on the eager spirit of 
his Eoyal master ; the more warlike and enterprising 
spirit of Carteret always carried with it the King's 
avowed or secret sympathies ; and notwithstanding a 
great divergence in their estimate of the importance 
of Hanoverian interests, the daring policy of the 
elder Pitt was much more in unison with the King's 
own bent of mind than the cautious, unenterprising 
counsels of his earlier Minister. This enterprise, far 
more physical than intellectual in its character and 
operation, made the courage also of George the 
Second different in kind from that of his father. 
That of George the First, though undoubted and 
never- failing, was as unobtrusive as it was unheroic 
in its mode of manifestation. But George the 
Second, whose daring impetuosity on the battle-field 
and energetic resolution on the approach of danger 
might have seemed more akin to the heroic mould, 



486 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

lost even the credit which he was entitled to on this 
account by his unconcealed self-satisfaction at his 
heroic qualities, and his naive appeals to all the 
world for acknowledgment and admiration of the 
same. His self-satisfaction was so genuine, and 
really to some extent so well founded, that it is 
rescued from the imputation of being mere bombast ; 
but it derogated sadly from the dignity of the king 
and the man, and even induced some persons to 
entertain most unjust doubts as to the reality of his 
courage itself. He was fond of talking of his own 
acts of valour, and when in one of these fits of self- 
admiration, his gait assumed a corresponding cha- 
racter, and he strutted in the most approved stage 
fashion. The malicious wits of the day were not 
slow in seizing on this piece of royal absurdity, to 
which the insignificant person and features of the 
King gave additional piquancy, and ' little George ' 
was sorely handled by them for this unheroic weak- 
ness. 

But in reality this excessive self-laudation and os- 
tentatious boasting were the index much less of abso- 
lute self-esteem than of habitual self-distrust. With 
all his impulsive eagerness to throw himself into 
situations which demanded the possession of much 
higher intellectual qualities than his, there was an 
unavowed but recurring sense of his own inferiority, 
which made him all the more anxious to assert him- 
self on points on which he had some claims to public 



GEOKGE THE SECOND. 487 

admiration, and all the more delighted with himself 
that he had such claims. Lord Chesterfield saw this 
clearly enough, observing that 'he was thought to 
have a great opinion of his own abilities ; but, on the 
contrary, I am very sure that he had a great distrust 
of them in matters of State.' But although he had 
the weakness to endeavour to conceal the extent to 
which he actually relied on the opinion and was 
governed by the advice of his wife and her adviser, 
Eobert Walpole, he had the good sense generally to 
follow that advice, and to cherish no ill-feeling either 
towards wife or minister for being so much wiser 
than himself. Though he had not ability enough to 
inaugurate and conduct a policy himself, he was clear- 
headed enough to appreciate it and adopt it when 
recommended by others, if he could only be induced 
to forego his first impulses, and really listen to ex- 
postulation. Lord Waldegrave testifies that, ' with- 
in the compass of my own observation, I have known 
few persons of high rank who could bear contradiction 
better, provided the intention was apparently good, 
and the manner decent.' But he resented in the 
most passionate manner any overt attempt to dictate 
to him, and to ignore or lower his dignity and intel- 
lectual status in the eyes of the public. His wife, 
who had greater power over him than any human 
being, was compelled, we are told, though he was 
quite conscious of its existence and effects, to avoid 
every direct and open exercise of it, even in her most 



488 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

private communications with him, and to prevail by 
gradually insinuating into his mind the counsels 
which she wished him to follow. This anxiety to 
conceal from himself as well as from others the extent 
to which he really was subject to her influence led to 
the assumption towards her sometimes in public — 
when he was in a bad humour or dissatisfied with his 
own conduct — of an arrogant and contemptuous 
manner, which did not in the smallest degree re- 
present his real estimate of her, or any real want of 
feeling towards her. Lord Hervey divined justly 
that his roughness of bearing towards particular 
individuals was by no means an index of a corre- 
sponding feeling of dislike, but often arose merely 
from a transient fit of ill-humour. And, like many 
extremely sensitive persons, he was very careless and 
inconsiderate of the feelings of others, particularly 
his wife's, for whom he had the greatest affection. 
This is what Lord Hervey calls his ' unfeeling heart ' 
and his ' neutrality between hardness and tenderness. 5 
But George really had strong and warm feelings, and 
was as constant in his friendships as he was vehement 
and tenacious in his antipathies. Lord Waldegrave 
tells us that ' to those servants who attend his person, 
and do not disturb him with frequent solicitations, he 
is ever gracious and affable.' 

But a point on which his character differed most de- 
cidedly from that of his father's was his sentimentality. 
This was not ' sentiment ' in the English sense of the 



GEOKGE THE SECOND. 489 

word, for George the Second was prosaic and matter- 
of-fact enough in the ordinary affairs of life to rob 
him of all pretensions to that quality in English eyes. 
He thought poetry and romances very sad rubbish 
and a thorough waste of time, and he had not the 
faintest eye for the fine arts. History was his 
favourite reading, and his preference for one painting- 
over another was based entirely on his greater 
familiarity with it as a piece of household furniture. 
Yet he was sentimental, notwithstanding, and 
romantic after a German fashion. He was a great 
letter-writer, and whether to his mistresses or his 
wife he poured forth on paper a minute chronicle of 
all his doings, thoughts, fears, hopes, and feelings 
generally, with all the unreserve of a school-girl 
correspondent. Then, when not engaged in actual 
business, or in reviewing his darling soldiers, he 
lounged away his time in the rooms of his wife, or 
strolled about in the moonlight with his mistress, 
talking and talking about himself and his feelings in 
much the same maundering and wearisome fashion. 
Such sentimentality was there in his ainours, that it 
was considered very doubtful by his contemporaries, 
and is still undecided, whether his relation with the 
Countess of Suffolk at any rate, went beyond this 
dreary sentimental flirtation. Even with his other 
and later mistress, Madame de Walmoden, whom he 
created Countess of Yarmouth after the Queen's 
death, and by whom he is understood to have had a 



490 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

son, this somewhat sickly sentimental intercourse was 
evidently the main charm. It is doubtful whether 
George ever really felt any strong affection for any- 
one but his wife. But he liked female society, and 
found in women the most congenial confidants. In 
his choice of these favourites, too, he displayed much 
better taste than his father. And although George's 
monotony of habits made him, particularly as he 
grew older, a somewhat tiresome companion, he was 
naturally by no means dull or lifeless, but generally 
cheerful, and even gay. ( In the drawing room,' 
says Lord Waldegrave, ' he is gracious and polite to 
the ladies, and remarkably cheerful and familiar with 
those who are handsome, or with the few of his old 
acquaintance who were beauties in his younger days. 
His conversation is very proper for a tete-a tete. He 
then talks freely on most subjects, and very much to 
the purpose ; but he cannot discourse with the same 
ease, nor has he the faculty of laying aside the King 
in larger company, not even in those parties of 
pleasure which are composed of his most intimate 
acquaintance.' Before his accession to the throne, 
his Court at Leicester House was emphatically what 
is expressed in the word ' jolly.' The leading wits 
and beauties of the day were there daily assembled to 
cap epigrams, and laugh at one another, and enjoy 
themselves very thoroughly after the fashion of that 
day. And in this circle the great attraction for 
George himself was gay, saucy, witty Mary Bellenden, 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 491 

with, whom lie sought to establish the ambiguous 
relation to which we have just referred, and who, 
notwithstanding her refusal of his suit, alienated 
his affection only by a clandestine marriage. The 
Countess of Suffolk, though with no pretensions to 
beauty, was a pleasing, amiable woman, of no ability, 
but much good sense, who appears to have captivated 
all about her by her sweet, gentle manners, She, 
however, seems to have latterly lent herself to 
political intriguers, and to have annoyed the King by 
opposing him frequently on his fixed opinions, and 
the sentimental character of their intercourse thus 
ceasing, George soon became heartily tired of her. 
Madame de Walmoden was a handsome, brilliant 
German countess. It was characteristic of George 
the Second that, though he conferred rank or 
bestowed money upon his mistresses, he never 
allowed them to have any real political influence, and 
resented their interference in State affairs. These 
he talked over with his wife alone, requiring to 
know everything and to have a good reason for 
everything, — full of objections and prejudices and 
vehement resolutions, but in the end almost always 
following her advice. A woman who could so manage 
such a jealous, irritable, and emotional character as 
to secure his entire confidence, and establish firmly 
by his side so sagacious an adviser as Robert Walpole, 
must have possessed considerable abilities, though 
she cannot pretend to the highest intellectual rank. 



492 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

Slie liad a clear head, great tact, and insight into 
character, perfect self-knowledge, and perfect self- 
command. What her inmost feeling towards her 
husband may have been it is difficult to divine, but 
the deepest affection could not have produced more 
complete self-devotion to his interests and his per- 
son. He was always her primary consideration. She 
watched over him with unsleeping and unwearying 
solicitude, and she wa/fcched over the interests and 
prosperity of England because his interests and hap- 
piness were therein involved. And with all his oc- 
casional neglect and roughness towards her, George 
fully appreciated her unselfish devotion. Nowhere 
in history is there such a tribute by a royal husband 
to the merits of his wife as that preserved by Lord 
Hervey from the lips of the King himself. To this 
devotion Caroline sacrificed the natural delicacy of a 
woman and a wife. Unable to divert him from his 
ambiguous pursuit of other women, she made her- 
self his confidant, and even in that strange depart- 
ment for a wife became his habitual adviser. It is 
probable that the wit or malignity of the memoir- 
writers has exaggerated the indecent grotesqueness 
of this relation between husband and wife, but their 
concurrent testimony seems to leave no doubt of the 
fact itself. It must be observed that there was 
perhaps not the usual conventional immorality in 
this strange conduct, for it would appear that both 
George and his wife were freethinkers on matters of 



GEOKGE THE SECOND. 493 

religion — Theists, but nothing more — and, high as 
has been the morality of many Theists, we do not 
know what was the code of morals attached to the 
particular form of Theism adopted by the King and 
Queen. The other point on which the character of 
Queen Caroline falls below the highest standard is 
her assumption of the role of a learned lady, and a 
critic on all possible points of art, literature, philo- 
sophy, and theology. Her foible was to be thought 
a sort of female ( Admirable Crichton,' and accord- 
ingly she turned her dressing-room into a scene 
of the most bizarre character, in which bishops and 
wits, royal chaplains and freethinkers, statesmen, 
men of arts, and men of fashion were mixed up with 
coiffeurs and waiting- women, and the latest epigram 
hustled the church-service for the day. In the midst, 
the Queen listened to elaborate compliments and 
complimentary odes, or chattered glibly — she was a 
great talker — or sat in judgment on a metaphysical 
controversy involving the nature of all things and the 
destinies of mankind. This was a weakness, but it 
had its advantages in a national point of view. It 
fostered intellectual tastes and pursuits, and it filled 
the higher places in the Church with learned and 
good men, instead of the usual tame recipients of 
Ministerial patronage. 

But devoted to each other and well-meaning as 
were the royal husband and wife, there was a skeleton 
in their house. This was their eldest son, Frederick, 



494 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

whom his mother despised and disliked, yet half-pitied 
and half-excused, but whom his father loathed as well 
as despised without a mitigating feeling. The un- 
reserve and intensity of this feeling cannot be defended 
in such a relation, but it was far from groundless. 
Even by the confession of those who attached them- 
selves to his person, Frederick was as thoroughly 
worthless as it is possible for a mere fool to be. With 
a few showy external accomplishments which deceived 
nobody as to his real intellectual capacity, his was 
as flimsy a nature as can be conceived. False and 
treacherous to every one, thoroughly mean and 
cowardly in his disposition, and an habitual and 
purposeless liar, he was injurious to himself more 
than to anyone else, and except as the heir -apparent 
to the Crown, which he happily did not live to possess, 
his life was thoroughly insignificant, and his death 
produced no other effect but dismay to the little 
coterie who had gathered round him as a centre of 
cabal, and a sense of relief and deliverance in the 
rest of the nation. 

If Lord Hervey is to be believed, we owe a debt of 
gratitude to Queen Caroline for modifying and con- 
trolling the views of George the Second on a point 
of vital national importance. At his accession, ac- 
cording to this writer, George had the ambition of 
really reigning, of employing only second-rate men 
as his ministers, and of keeping them in the position 
of business clerks, while the reins of government 



G-EQRGE THE SECOND. 495 

remained in his own hands. With such an irritable, 
impetuous character as his, a government so personal 
could scarcely have failed to bring with it grave 
constitutional differences with Parliament. But if 
there is any truth in Lord Hervey's statement (and 
Lord Waldegrave hints at the King's personal prefer- 
ence for a German autocracy), George (whether under 
his wife's advice or not) soon learned the imprac- 
ticability of this project — probably felt his own in- 
capacity for the lofty part as soon as he was called 
upon to act on his theory — and for the rest of his life 
became what the courtier-writers thought slavishly 
observant of the feelings of the House of Commons, 
and was affected considerably (after his wife's early 
death) in his estimate of advisers by the influence 
which statesmen could obtain and retain in that as- 
sembly. But the choice which he actually made is 
probably attributable to his own good sense, rather 
than to any theory of Parliamentary government. 
The sagacity of his wife, confirmed by his own clear 
practical perceptions, in the first instance recom- 
mended Walpole to his confidence ; and habit, and a 
sense of gratitude for past services, joined to the dying 
recommendation of the Queen, kept that Minister for 
a long time in the same position. By that time, 
George, who was never an uninformed or unintelligent 
agent in the hands of his Minister, had learned 
enough of men and manners, and the management of 
both, to be tolerably able to act and choose for him- 



496 ESTIMATES OP THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

self. He was not by nature a very clever or wise 
man, but lie bad fallen into an excellent course of 
training, and be was an apt and careful pupil. His 
prejudices, it is true, sometimes, as in tbe case of Pitt, 
interfered witb and postponed too long wbat was for 
tbe real interests of England ; but be was never 
bopelessly deaf to reason, and wben be was once 
convinced of bis duty, be fulfilled it witb manful 
resignation. 

On tbe wbole, wbile it is impossible to look upon 
George tbe Second as a superior man or a great 
king, and tbougb we must sometimes smile at bis 
absurdities, we cannot in justice deny to bim tbe 
character of an earnest, well-meaning, intelligent 
man, and of an bonest, tbougb not a very dignified 
sovereign. 



497 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 

In speaking of the conduct of George the Third as a 
King we must not forget that we are speaking of one 
in whom there was not only the predisposition to 
insanity, but that disease had exhibited itself in an 
open attack before he had been five years on the 
English Throne, and during the remainder of whose 
reign there were at intervals of time three more 
ascertained attacks of a similar kind — in one case a 
very prolonged one — before that which in the year 
1810 finally disabled him for all rational intercourse. 
It is therefore impossible to estimate his moral 
responsibility even during the periods when he was 
for all practical purposes seemingly quite sane, as 
we should that of one whose mind was not thus ever 
subject to these mental derangements. And in 
George the Third there are several characteristics 
which appear to be closely connected with this dis- 
eased state of mind. Taking this consideration into 
due account, his character seems to be tolerably 
clear and consistent from the beginning to the end 
of his public career. Lord Waldegrave, who was his 

K K 



498 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

' Governor 3 for a short time while he was Prince of 
Wales, and who has given his impressions of him 
two years before he ascended the throne, seems to 
strike the keynote to the whole subsequent man. 
c His parts,' he says, 6 though not excellent, will be 
found very tolerable, if ever they are properly exer- 
cised. He is strictly honest, but wants that frank 
and open behaviour which makes honesty appear 
amiable. When he had a very scanty allowance, it 
was one of his favourite maxims that men should be 
just before they are generous; his income is now 
very considerably augmented, but his generosity has 
not increased in equal proportion. His religion is 
free from all hypocrisy, but is not of the most 
charitable sort ; he has rather too much attention to 
the sins of his neighbour. He has spirit, but not of 
the active kind ; and does not want resolution, but it 
is mixed with too much obstinacy. He has great 
command of his passions, and will seldom do wrong 
except when he mistakes wrong for right; but as 
often as this shall happen, it will be difficult to 
undeceive him, because he is uncommonly indolent, 
and has strong prejudices. His want of application 
and aversion to business would be far less dangerous, 
was he eager in the pursuit of pleasure; for the 
transition from pleasure to business is both shorter 
and easier than from a state of total inaction. He 
has a kind of unhappiness in his temper, which if it 
be not conquered before it has taken too deep a root, 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 499 

will be a source of frequent anxiety. Whenever he 
is displeased, his anger does not break out into heat 
and violence ; but he becomes sullen and silent, and 
retires to his, closet : not to compose his mind by 
study or contemplation, but merely to indulge the 
melancholy enjoyment of his own ill -humour. Even 
when the fit is ended, unfavourable symptons very 
frequently return, which indicate that on certain 
occasions His Eoyal Highness has too correct a 
memory. Though I have mentioned his good and 
bad qualities without flattery and without aggrava- 
tion, allowances should still be made on account of 
his youth and his bad education ; for though the 
Bishop of Peterborough [Dr. John Thomas], now 
Bishop of Salisbury, the preceptor, Mr. Stone, sub- 
governor, and Mr. Scott the sub-preceptor, were men 
of sense, men of learning, and worthy, good men, 
they had but little weight and influence. The 
mother and the nursery always prevailed. During 
the course of the last year, there has indeed been 
some alteration; the authority of the nursery has 
gradually declined, and the Earl of Bute, by the 
assistance of the mother, has now the entire confi- 
dence. But whether this change will be greatly to 
his Eoyal Highness's advantage is a nice question, 
which cannot hitherto be determined with any cer- 
tainty. 5 

The forebodings of Lord Waldegrave were only 
too soon verified, for, next to his mother, Lord Bute 



500 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

proved the most mischievous adviser of the Prince. 
To one placed in the situation in which young 1 
George William found himself on the premature 
death of his father, the guidance and influence of his 
mother must have been of the greatest importance. 
The Princess of Wales — Augusta of Saxe-Gotha — 
does not appear to have made any distinct impression 
on the minds of her contemporaries till after the 
death of her husband. For a short time after that 
event her conduct created a general impression of 
good sense and good feeling. She broke up the 
little Anti-Court which had gathered round Frede- 
rick, and seemed to wish to place herself in every 
respect at the disposal of the King and in accord 
with his wishes ; and George the Second appreciating 
this behaviour treated her with marked kindness and 
deference to her wishes. But no sooner did the 
question of her son's marriage arise, than the Prin- 
cess dropped the mask, and began to show what her 
real character was. She was determined that she 
herself and her favourites alone should rule the future 
King, and as a first and essential step to this domi- 
nation she resolved that the choice of his wife should 
be hers and not the King's, and that the future 
partner of her son should be one from whose intellect 
she need fear no rival in the sway over his mind. 
The old King unluckily gave her a pretext for 
opposing his choice by endeavouring to make a 
match for his grandson with another member of the 



GEOKGE THE THIKD. 501 

House of Brunswick, a very charming and accom- 
plished young* Princess who fairly captivated old 
George himself. Had this match been accomplished, 
the new Court of England would have borne a very 
different aspect from what it afterwards assumed 
under the auspices of Queen Charlotte. But the 
Princess of Wales prevented this, and from that 
time, with occasional intervals of suspended hostility, 
there was a revival of the old antagonism of Leicester 
House to St. James'. In herself, Augusta of Wales 
— though a mere child, and a very childish child 
when she became the wife of Frederick, for she 
brought her great doll with her, to the astonishment 
and amusement of the courtiers — was a complete 
embodiment of the narrowest autocratic ideas and 
prejudices of a very self-important little German 
Court. With the most absolute ideas of the position 
and rights of a sovereign prince she combined an 
overbearing disposition, much selfishness, a sagacity 
which did not rise above the grade of cunning, and 
a cold heart. She had just talent enough to tyrannise 
over her own children when young, and to render 
their home a far from happy one, but neither the 
ability nor the tact to maintain her authority when 
their relative positions became changed. She had 
formed the lowest estimate of her son George's 
abilities, and endeavoured to bring him up in the 
homeliest and least intelligent manner, that she and 
her favourite, Bute, might all the more easily and 



502 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS, 

thoroughly rule in his name, whilst implanting in 
his mind the highest ideas of the dignity and irre- 
sponsibility of a King, In this she made a great 
mistake. Young George, indeed, readily formed the 
habit of domestic pursuits and homely living thus 
recommended to him, and from the indolence of mind 
of which Lord Waldegrave speaks, exhibited no de- 
sire to think and act for himself as long as the 
sweets of supreme power remained untasted by him ; 
he also received into his mind with equal readiness 
the autocratic lessons of his mother and Bute ; but 
he did so in a spirit tbat they little anticipated. 
They had taught him that he ought to reign himself, 
and not be, as his grandfather and great-grandfather 
had been, the mere serfs of Parliament, and those 
great families who ruled in Parliament; but they 
really meant by this that he was so to reign as their 
puppet, while he only looked upon them as necessary 
and convenient teachers in the first steps towards his 
personal government. With the possession of the 
title of King his ambition awoke, and as Lord 
Waldegrave had presaged, with it his indolence 
disappeared, and he soon began to think and act for 
himself. He always paid a marked filial respect and 
deference to his mother, which she rigidly exacted, 
and with which she was soon obliged to be content, 
— and naturally he at first looked to Bute as his 
counsellor and premier. But he soon found out that 
the favourite was unequal to carrying out the lessons 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 503 

he had taught, and both Bute and the Princess 
gradually disappeared from the. political arena, 
though their names long survived their actual 
influence as popular bugbears. George then and 
thenceforth acted for himself, and England was 
astonished to find itself again exposed to what it 
had imagined was banished with the exiled line of 
Princes, — the personal rule of the King. 

Nor was George without some qualifications for 
the task he had undertaken, — that of making the 
Throne instead of the Treasury Bench, or the House 
of Commons, the pivot of government. He had all 
the courage, resolution, and pertinacity of his family . 
and the enterprise of his grandfather, without the 
checks of his self-distrust and good sense. His own 
prudence and sagacity, though similar in kind, were 
greater than his mother's. Thus, he spoke and acted 
as if nothing should induce him to forego a resolu- 
tion he had once avowed, and as long as it was 
possible to produce any effect on the minds of his 
Ministers or the nation by a belief in the inflexibility 
of his resolution, he seemed as bent on persevering 
as any Stuart King had ever been. When a change 
of ministry and the admission of those whose prin- 
ciples were essentially opposed to his autocratic ideas 
seemed almost inevitable, he wrote in such terms 
as the following : — ' Honestly, I would rather lose 
the crown I now wear, than bear the ignominy of 
possessing it under their shackles ; ' and again, c I 



504 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

am still ready to accept any part of them that will 
come to the assistance of my present efficient 
Ministers ; but whilst any ten men in the kingdom 
will stand by me, I will not give myself up to bond- 
age. My dear lord, I will rather risk my crown than 
do what I think personally disgraceful. It is im- 
possible this nation should not stand by me. If 
they will not, they shall have another King, for I 
never will put my hand to what will make me 
miserable to the last hour of my life ; ? and once 
more, ' Eather than be shackled by those desperate 
men (if the nation will not stand by me), I will 
rather see any form of Government introduced into 
this island, and lose my crown, rather than bear it 
as a disgrace.' But when he found that all this 
high-toned bluster did not answer its purpose, 
George sullenly submitted, in time to avoid any 
such crisis as that which he so magnanimously 
professed to be willing to encounter, showing his 
resentment plainly enough in his manner, but 
changing his mode of action to one less personally 
hazardous. On some of these occasions he talked of 
going away to Hanover, as a sure means of bringing 
the nation to its senses ; but a confidential adviser 
suggesting that it might not be so easy, in that case, 
for him ever to return to England again, no more 
was heard of this tentative abdication. In fact, 
George the Third was really far too shrewd a man 
to lose an assured position to avoid any transient 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 505 

humiliation. If lie could persuade the English 
world that his threats would be carried out, and so 
induce them to give way to his wishes, so much the 
better ; but if they refused to believe in or be moved 
by this demonstration, George quietly covered his 
defeat by making their success as unpleasant as 
possible to the victors. 

This brings us to another phase in the character 

■ of George the Third. We have seen that Lord 
Waldegrave speaks of his want of frankness. It is 
probable that the brooding temperament and indirect- 
ness of conduct which are among the least pleasing 
of George's characteristics were closely connected 
with the mental disease to which he had a constant 
tendency. Secretiveness and cunning are usually 
marked features in an organisation so affected, and 
the suspiciousness of others and the strong and 

1 irrational likes and dislikes which are main operating- 
causes in such a nature produce as a necessary result 
dissimulation and crafty underhand intrigue. When 
George, then, found that his violent declarations and 

| over-bearing wilfulness produced no effect, he re- 

! strained his morbid impatience (although his reason 
on several occasions tottered and even temporarily 
succumbed under the effort), and endeavoured to 
attain his ends by cunning watchfulness of oppor- 
tunities. He acquiesced outwardly in the change of 
advisers and abandonment of cherished policy, and 
then set to work to undermine the position of the 



506 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

intrusive counsellors, and to thwart as much as he 
could venture to do the development of their plans. 
He intrigued, in fact 3 against the Ministers he could 
not meet openly, and waited for the moment when 
he could safely dismiss them again with ignominy. 
Hence arose the political phenomenon which went 
under the name of ' The King's Friends ' — a set of 
men who formed a backstairs Anti-Cabinet, the object 
of which was to employ the King's name and the in- 
fluence of his personal sentiments in organising an 
Opposition to his ostensible Cabinet advisers, both 
in Parliament and in the country at large. It must 
not be supposed by this that there was any regularly 
constituted ' cabal,' or any precisely defined plans 
of operation for its guidance ; but there were nearly 
always, throughout the reign of George the Third, 
two or three men — generally not men of high ability, 
but busy, gossiping intriguers who were irresponsible, 
and both unavowed and often disavowed agents in 
making known what the King's real wishes were. 
With the assistance of such men, and by a careful 
observation of the variations in the public sentiment, 
George achieved a success in his plans of personal 
government which, if we remember the relative 
position of the Crown and Parliament at the com- 
mencement of his reign, seems at first marvellous. 
In the course of this protracted struggle, the King 
had to undergo many mortifications and not a few 
seemingly fatal checks ; but he always bent to the 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 507 

storm in time, and generally knew when and how 
long to maintain an inflexible position. Nothing 
bnt this superior cunning and adroitness could have 
saved him from a great civil convulsion such as that 
which destroyed his predecessors in this path of royal 
aggrandisement, Charles the First and James the 
Second. But George the Third had concentrative- 
ness of action as well as persistence of purpose; 
and however tortuous his paths were at times, the 
tone and direction of his policy were always consis- 
tent, and no one had ever cause to suspect him for 
a moment of having become a convert to Whig con- 
stitutional notions, although he might tolerate for 
a time Whig Ministers, and even (as in the case of 
his concessions to the revolted American Colonies 
and his ultimate acknowledgment of their inde- 
pendence) adopt Whig measures and Whig policy. 
This persistent uniformity of sentiment, suspended in 
action from time to time by the necessities of bis 
position, but always reappearing again to the public 
eye, produced by degrees a great and lasting effect on 
the public mind. The very fact of the unity and 
permanent position of Kingship as compared with 
the shifting constituents of a House of Commons, and 
the diversity of personal interests in the House of 
Lords, was a formidable instrument when joined to 
a distinctly perceived and unwavering unity of sen- 
timent and purpose. Against it the power of the 
great Whig Houses had in reality little basis of 



508 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

stability. Their c connection ' had become too large 
for the requirements of Ministerial patronage. They 
could have furnished two or three entire Cabinets 
out of their ranks, and supernumerary placeholders 
to any extent. So there were always disappointed 
men and jealous expectants, and George had little 
difficulty in using one element against another, until 
all cohesion and all solidity in their influence were at 
an end. He turned against the Whig statesmen the 
influence of the Crown — both legitimate and corrupt 
— which they had so long availed themselves of for 
their own individual or party purposes, and which 
they had come to regard as quite as much their own 
property as their family and pocket boroughs. The 
old Duke of Newcastle beheld with astonishment 
and dismay his long cherished Government boroughs 
turned into agents for his own overthrow. The Whig 
families thus paid the penalty of having converted 
the natural organ of popular feeling into a mere 
department of Ministerial patronage. Without con- 
sciously abandoning the popular principles which 
had enabled them to withstand and overthrow the 
tyranny of the House of Stuart, they had fallen 
under the influence of long tenure of office, and had 
nearly forgotten their origin and the real conditions 
of their existence as a Party. Like the narrow and 
select civic representation into which the Spanish 
Cortes had degenerated when its privileges were 
successfully assailed by Charles the Fifth and Philip 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 509 

the Second, the English House of Commons had lost 
its popular basis, and could evoke no popular 
enthusiasm in its contest with the Crown. The 
House of Lords, distracted by rival factions, soon 
also succumbed to the liberal exercise of royal favour 
and the dread of royal displeasure. Not only were 
Lord-Lieutenants of Counties dismissed from their 
office for voting against the Kings's wishes, but 
officers of the Army and Navy were deprived of their 
commissions for a similar offence. 

The King himself was a most dilig'ent man of 
business. No permanent Secretary ever knew more 
— few half so much — of the minutise of official life 
and of the personnel of the civil and other services. 
George the Third worked as hard as a Government 
clerk is supposed to work, and his interest in such 
bureaucratic details corresponds well with the type 
of his intellect. With two or three fixed ideas, or 
rather prejudices, held and pursued with the intensity- 
of monomania, he had neither the capacity nor the 
inclination to form any wide or elevated views. His 
education had been grossly neglected, or rather he 
had been allowed or encouraged to neglect it, and his 
mind, sharp and retentive, but narrow and essentially 
unphilosophical, contented itself within a sphere as 
limited as it was well explored. His idea of personal 
government was that of not being thwarted in his 
own wishes, and of knowing and sanctioning every- 
thing that was done. A great policy either at home 



510 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

or abroad had no meaning for him, and presented 
itself, if at all, only in a negative shape. He was a 
strict Protestant Church of England man, and no do- 
mestic policy must encourage or seem to encourage 
Eoman Catholicism. He had severe ideas of discipline 
and legal and official authority, and nothing must be 
done to unduly relax the one or to weaken the other. 
He had a horror of popular politics and popular 
interference in government, except in support of the 
rights and under the leadership of the Crown. He 
was fond of the lower orders in their proper place ; 
he loved to mix familiarly with them, in the spirit of 
paternal condescension in which a German potentate 
chats with a peasant ; but he resented all independent 
action or thought on their part as subversive of 
authority and government. He wished them to be 
paid and fed according to their condition, and 
educated in a manner appropriate to the state of 
life ' unto which it had pleased God to call them.' 
He had a sincere and strong desire for the happiness 
of his people and the welfare of the nation ; but it 
was essential that there should be a general spirit of 
subordination, the proper and necessary amount of 
taxes duly paid, and the full number of persons, young 
and old, as determined by the fixed processes of 
justice, whipped, imprisoned, or hung every year, if 
government was to be carried on at all. All ideas 
beyond these were sedition and anarchy. After the 
assistance given to the American colonists by France, 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 5 LI 

liis foreign policy consisted in little but a blind hatred 
of that nation and of all ' French ideas.' During two 
periods of his life, George the Third had the oppor- 
tunity of putting these ideas of order and justice into 
practical operation. In 1 770 he found in Lord North 
a pliant, though not always a sympathising, agent of 
his views, and every one knows how disastrous was 
the personal administration of that period ; how the 
low-minded demagogue Wilkes bearded King and 
Parliament, and how the acrimonious sententiousness 
of ' Junius ' engrossed public attention ; how incapable 
was the administration at home, and how disastrous 
the events abroad which robbed us of an empire. A 
second time George the Third had the opportunity of 
showing England the benefits of personal government, 
and under singularly favourable circumstances. At his 
side stood a man of real ability and thoughtful mind, 
personally inflexibly honest, disinterestedly desirous 
of promoting the wishes of the King as well as the 
prosperity of the nation, and with a singular mastery 
alike of business and men. In the younger Pitt no 
doubt George the Third expected to meet with a 
second pliant tool, like the easy-tempered North ; but 
he met with a mind which, though compliant on 
many points with the royal prejudices, to the injury 
of his lasting reputation as a statesman, had 
naturally as stiff and proud a nature as his own, and 
was as little satisfied with the name without the 
reality of power. The King could not venture to 



512 ESTIMATES OF THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

order about such a man in the insolent manner in 
which he had treated George Grenville ; and he was 
wise enough to perceive this. The result was a 
tacit compromise by which the King for many years 
always consulted Mr. Pitt, was much influenced by 
his views, and left him a considerable share of 
administrative power and influence; but by which 
Mr. Pitt on his side gave up all idea of a really great 
domestic and foreign policy, in deference to the King's 
rooted prejudices. The French Revolution greatly 
assisted King and Minister in holding their own 
against all opponents, — by annihilating the Whig 
party, and driving the terrified nation into a fanatic 
admiration of the personal government of the 
Sovereign. Every needful reform was refused or 
postponed indefinitely, and people were educated into 
a state of public abuses and general jobbery and 
corruption as the normal condition of life. It has 
tasked all the ability and energies of the statesmen 
of William the Fourth and Victoria to remedy the 
effects of this long mal-administration. 

Towards the end of the first French war, George 
became tired of even the limited check which the 
talents and established public ascendancy of Pitt 
placed on his own autocracy ; he became jealous as 
well as tired of this higher intellectual companionship, 
and began once more to intrigue against his Minister 
with a new set of ' King's Friends.' A difference 
between himself and Pitt on the subject of Catholic 



GEOKOE THE THIRD. 513 

Emancipation, as a necessary sequel to the Act of 
Union with Ireland, was the occasion of his giving 
vent to an outburst of dogmatic self-assertion which 
produced a recurrence of his terrible disease ; Pitt 
resigned ; Addington, the ' King's Friend,' became 
Minister ; but when Pitt again returned to power, 
the question of Catholic Emancipation was not again 
mooted by him, the well-known dangerous state of 
the King's mind thus enabling the latter to carry his 
point and to endanger the safety of the Empire 
without further resistance. 

But if the absolutist notions which the King's 
mother had instilled into his mind exposed both 
England and himself to great danger, and inflicted 
nearly irreparable injury on the former — the home- 
loving and homely habits which that princess had 
also cultivated in him produced a great accession 
to his personal popularity, and constituted no small 
ingredient in his political power. As an affectionate 
husband to a plain, dull, narrow-minded woman — 
whose naturally kind feelings had been stiffened into 
something like insensibility by the formalities of 
Court ceremonial — and as the father of a large and 
stately family, George the Third appealed to one of 
the marked characteristics of English middle-class 
sentiment, and commanded universal sympathy and 
regard as exhibiting a pattern of English domestic 
life. His ill-judged partialities and severities with 
his children were not at the time fully known, or if 

L L 



514 ESTIMATES OE THE ENGLISH KINGS. 

so, not estimated at their due importance, and the 
public delighted in seeing him the centre figure of a 
striking family group on the terraces of Windsor, and 
in listening to stories of his affability to his subjects 
of all classes in his country walks 5 while they smiled 
with kindly indulgence, and a certain satisfaction at 
his stammering, ' What ! what ! what ! ' and other 
oddities of speech, and at the naive and grotesque 
ignorance of the stock-knowledge of ordinary life 
which he displayed on such occasions. The pupil of 
Bute was no longer remembered as such in those 
days, and the portrait which has descended to us 
from the last generation is not that of the astute 
plotter for irresponsible authority, but of the 6 good 
old King. 5 

So far as his narrowness of judgment and prejudices 
permitted, George was a just and a kind man ; he 
was a religious man, too, as far as the general in- 
tention to do right and a regular observance of the 
religious forms prescribed by a Church entitle any 
one to that character. He had good abilities, chiefly 
of the administrative order, and some power of 
penetration into the dispositions, and especially the 
weaknesses, of those around him; but he generally 
dreaded and seldom understood the higher class of 
genius. He was too apt to nourish a supposed injury, 
and his memory was too good for him easily to 
exercise the virtue of Christian forgiveness. But he 
was not implacable, and his resentment was generally 



GEOEGE THE THIED. 515 

sullen and passive, rather than aggressive ; and if he 
forgot old services too soon when his wishes were 
at length thwarted, he soon became reconciled to 
individuals when he thought he saw in them real 
marks of devotion to his person . Personal government, 
indeed, was the bane of his reign, and an overweening 
idea of his own paramount importance and competency 
lay at the root of all his errors. Disease probably 
rendered this characteristic more masterful, but 
disease also perhaps quickened his intellectual 
faculties, and made him more than a match for men 
of actually far higher intellectual capacities. If we 
assign his duplicity to the influence of disease, we 
may, on the whole, pronounce him to have been a 
good man ; but it is impossible not to regard him, as 
far as statesmanship is concerned, as one of the most 
inefficient and unfortunate of our rulers. 



LO>"D02f : PRINTED BY 

SPOTTISTTOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 

AXD PARLIAMENT &TREET 



[A.TJQ-TTST 1873-1 

&SIERAI LIST OF WORKS 

PUBLISHED BY 

Messrs. LONGMANS, GREEN, and CO, 

PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. 

History \ Politics, Historical Memoirs, &c. 

The HISTORY of ENGLAND from the Fall of Wolsey to the Defeat 
of the Spanish Armada. By Jaiies Anthony Feoude, MA. late Fellow 
of Exeter College, Oxford. 

Libbaey. Edition, 12 Yoxs. 8vo. price £& 18*. 

Cabinet Edition, in 12 vols, crown Svo. price 72*. 

The HISTORY of ENGLAND from the Accession of James IL By 
Lord Macaulay. 

Student's Edition, 2 vols, crown Svo. 12s. 
People's Edition, 4 vols, crown 8vo. 16*. 
Cabinet Edition, 8 vols, post 8vo. 48*. 
Libbaey Edition, 5 vols. 8vo.£4. 

LORD MACAULAY' S WORKS. Complete and Uniform Library 
Edition. Edited by his Sister, Lady Tbeyelyan. 8 vols. 8vo. with Portrait, 
price £5. 5s. cloth, or £8. 8s. bound in tree-calf by Riviere. 

VARIETIES of VICE-REGAL LIFE. By Sir William Dbnisok, 

K.C.B. late Governor-General of the Australian Colonies, and Governor of 
Madras. With Two Maps. 2 vols. 8vo. 285. 

On PARLIAMENTARY GOVERNMENT in ENGLAND ; its Origin, 
Development, and Practical Operation. By Axphetts Todd, Librarian of 
the Legislative Assembly of Canada. 2 vols. Svo. price £1. 17*. 

A HISTORICAL ACCOUNT of the NEUTRALITY of GREAT BRI- 
TAIN DURING the AMERICAN CIVIL WAR. By MoiTHTAGUB Bee- 
naed, M.A. Chichele Professor of International Law and Diplomacy in the 
University of Oxford. Royal Svo. 16*. 

The CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY of ENGLAND, since the Acces- 
sion of George III. 17G0— 1860. By Sir Thomas Ebskine May, C.B. Second 
Edition. Cabinet Edition, thoroughly revised. 3 vols, crown 8vo. price 18s. 

The HISTORY of ENGLAND, from the Earliest Times to the Year 
1965. By C. D. Yonge, B.A. Regius Professor of Modern History in Queen's 
College, Belfast. New Edition. Crown 8vo. price 7s. &d. 
A 



NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY LONGMANS AND CO. 



The OXFORD REFORMERS— John Colet, Erasmus, and Thomas 
More ; being a History of their Fellow-work. By Frederic Seebohm. 
Second Edition, enlarged. 8vo. 14s. 

LECTURES on the HISTORY of ENGLAND, from the earliest Times 
to the Death of King Edward II. By "William* Longman. With Maps 
and Illustrations. 8vo. 15s. 

The HISTORY of the LIFE and TIMES of EDWARD the THIRD. 
By William Longman. With 9 Maps, 8 Plates, and 16 Woodcuts. 2 vols. 
8vo. 28s. 

MEMOIR and CORRESPONDENCE relating to POLITICAL OCCUR- 
RENCES in June and July 1834. By Edward John Littleton, 
First Lord Hatberton. Edited, from the Original Manuscript, by Henry 
Reeve. 8vo. price 7s. fid. 

WATERLOO LECTURES; a Study of the Campaign of 1815. By 
Colonel Charles C. Chesney, R.E. late Professor of Military Art and 
History in the Staff College. New Edition. 8vo. with Map, 10s. 6d. 

HISTORY of the REFORMATION in EUROPE in the Time of 
Calvin. By J. H. Merlb D'Aubigne, D.D. Vols. I. and II. 8vo. 28s. 
Vol. III. 12s. Vol. IV. 16s. Vol. V. price 16s. 

ROYAL and REPUBLICAN FRANCE. A Series of Essays reprinted 
from the Edinburgh, Quarterly, and British and Foreign Reviews. By 
Henry Reeve, C.B. D.C.L. 2 vols. 8vo. price 21s. 

CHAPTERS from FRENCH HISTORY ; St. Lonis, Joan of Arc, 
Henri IV. with Sketches of the Intermediate Periods. By J. H. 
GuRNEY, M.A. New Edition. Fcp. 8vo. 6s. 6d. 

The LIFE and TIMES of SIXTUS the FIFTH. By Baron Hubneb. 

Translated from the Original French, with the Author's sanction, by 
Hubert E. H. Jerningham. 2 vols. 8vo. price 24v?. 

IGNATIUS LOYOLA and the EARLY JESUITS. By Stewakt Rose. 

New Edition, revised. 8vo. with Portrait, price 16s. 

The HISTORY of GREECE. By C. Thirlwall, D.D. Lord Bishop 

of St. David's. 8 vols. fcp. 8vo. price 28s. 

GREEK HISTORY from Themistocles to Alexander, in a Series of 
Lives from Plutarch. Revised and arranged by A. H. Clough. New 
Edition. Fcp. with 44 "Woodcuts, 6s. 

CRITICAL HISTORY of the LANGUAGE and LITERATURE of 

Ancient Greece. By William Mure, of Caldwell. 5 vols. 8vo. £3 9s. 

The TALE of the GREAT PERSIAN WAR, from the Histories of 
Herodotus. By Georgb W. Cox, M.A. New Edition. Fcp. 3s. 6d\ 

HISTORY of the LITERATURE of ANCIENT GREECE. By Pro- 
fessor K. O. MtTLLER. Translated by the Right Hon. Sir Geobge CobnB- 
wall Lewis, Bart, and by J. "W. Donaldson, D.D. 3 vols. 8vo. 21s. 

HISTORY of the CITY of ROME from its Foundation to the Sixteenth 
Century of the Christian Era. By Thomas H. Dyeb, LL.D. 8vo. with 2 
Maps, 15s. 

The HISTORY of ROME. By William Ihne. English Edition, 
translated and revised by the Author. Vols. I. and II. 8vo. price 30s. 

HISTORY of the ROMANS under the EMPIRE. By the Very Rev. 
C. Merivale, D.C.L. Dean of Ely. 8 vols, post 8vo. 48s. 



NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS and CO. 3 

The FALL of the ROMAN REPUBLIC ; a Short History of the Last 

Century of the Commonwealth. By the same Author. 12mo. 7*. 6d. 
THREE CENTURIES of MODERN HISTORY. By Charles Duke 

Yonge,B.A. Regius Professor of Modern History and English Literature in 

Queen's College, Belfast. Crown 8vo. price 7s. 6d. 
A STUDENT'S MANUAL of the HISTORY of INDIA, from the 

Earliest Period to the Present. By Colonel Meadows Taylor, M.R.A.S. 

M.R.I.A. Crown 8vo. with' Maps, 7s. 6d. 
The HISTORY of INDIA, from the Earliest Period to the close of Lord 

Dalhousie's Administration. By John Clark Marshman. 3 vols, crown 

8vo. 22s. Qd. 
INDIAN POLITY: a View of the System of Administration in India. 

By Lieutenant-Colonel George Chesney, Fellow of the University of 

Calcutta. New Edition, revised ; with Map. 8vo. price 21s. 
A COLONIST on the COLONIAL QUESTION. By Jehu Mathews, 

of Toronto, Canada. Post 8vo. price 6*. 
The IMPERIAL and COLONIAL CONSTITUTIONS of the BRI- 
TANNIC EMPIRE, including INDIAN INSTITUTIONS. By Sir Edwaed 

Ceeasy, M.A. With 6 Maps. 8vo. price 15s. 
HOME POLITICS ; being a consideration of the Causes of the Growth 

of Trade in relation to Labour, Pauperism, and Emigration. By Danief. 

GRA.NT. 8VO. 7S. 

REALITIES of IRISH LIFE. By W. Steuart Trench, Land Agent 
in Ireland to the Marquess of Lansdowne, the Marquess of Bath, and Lord 
Digby. Fifth Edition. Crown 8vo. price 6s. 

The STUDENT'S MANUAL of the HISTORY of IRELAND. By 
Mary P. Cusacr", Author of 'The Illustrated History of Ireland, from the 
Earliest Period to the Year of Catholic Emancipation. 5 Otown 8vo. price 6s. 

CRITICAL and HISTORICAL ESSAYS contributed to the Edinburgh 

Review. By the Right Hon. Lokd Macaulay. 
Cabinet Edition - , 4 vols, post 8vo. 24?. I Libra ey 'Edition, 3 vols. 8vo. 36s. 
People's Edition,2 vols, crown 8vo. 5s. I-Studknt's Edition, 1 vol. cr.8vo. 6s. 
SAINT-SIMON and SAINT-SIMONISM ; a chapter in the History of 

Socialism in Prance. By Arthur J. Booth, M.A. Crown 8vo. price 7s. 6<i. 
HISTORY of EUROPEAN MORALS, from Augustus to Charlemagne. 

By W. E. H. Lecey, M.A. Second Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. price 28s. 
HISTORY of the RISE and INFLUENCE of the SPIRIT of 

RATIONALISM in EUROPE. By W. E. H. Lecey, M.A. Cabinet Edition, 

being the Fourth. 2 vols, crown 8vo. price 16s. 
GOD in HISTORY ; or, the Progress of Man's Faith in the Moral 

Order of the World. By Baron Bunsen. Translated by Susanna Wink> 

worth; with a Preface by Dean Stanley. 3 vols. 8vo. price 42s. 
The HISTORY of PHILOSOPHY, from Thales to Comte. By 

George Henry Lewes. Pourth Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. 32s. 
An HISTORICAL VIEW of LITERATURE and ART in GREAT 

BRITAIN from the Accession of the House of Hanover to the Reign of 

Queen Victoria. By J. Mueray Graham, M.A. 8vo. price 14s. 
The MYTHOLOGY of the ARYAN NATIONS. By George W. 

Cox, M.A. late Scholar of Trinity College, Oxford, Joint-Editor, with the 

late Professor Brande, of the Pourth Edition of ' The Dictionary of Science, 

Literature, and Art,' Author of ' Tales of Ancient Greece ' &c. 2 vols. Svo. 28s. 
A 2 



NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS and CO. 



HISTORY of CIVILISATION in England and France, Spain and Scot- 
land. By Henry Thomas Btjcexe. New Edition of the entire Work. 
with a complete Index. S vols, crown 8vo. 24s. 

HISTORY of the CHRISTIAN CHURCH, from the Ascension of 
Christ to the Conversion of Constantine. By E. Burton, D.D. late 
Prof, of Divinity in the Univ. of Oxford. New Edition. Pep. 3s. Qd. 

SXETCH of the HISTORY of the CHURCH of ENGLAND to the 
Revolution of 1688. By the Right Rev. T. V. Short, D.D. Lord Bishop of 
St. Asaph. Eighth Edition. Crown 8vo. 7s. Qd. 

HISTORY of the EARLY CHURCH, from the First Preaching of the 
Gospel to the Council of Nicaea, a.d. 325. By Elizabeth M. Sewell, 
Author of 'Amy Herbert.' New Edition, with Questions. Fcp. 4s. Qd. 

The ENGLISH REFORMATION. By F. C. Massingberd, M.A. 
Chancellor of Lincoln and Rector of South Ormsby. Fourth Edition, revised. 
Pep. 8vo. 7s. Qd. 

MAUNDER' S HISTORICAL TREASURY; comprising a General In- 
troductory Outline of Universal History, and a series of Separate Histories. 
Latest Edition, revised and brought down to the Present Time by the 
Rev. George William Cox, M.A. Fcp. 6s. cloth, or 10s. calf. 

ENCYCLOPEDIA of CHRONOLOGY, HISTORICAL and BIO- 
GRAPHICAL; comprising the Dates of all the Great Events of History, 
including Treaties, Alliances, Wars, Battles, &c.; Incidents in the Lives of 
Eminent Men and their Works, Scientific and Geographical Discoveries, 
Mechanical Inventions, and Social, Domestic, and Economical Improve- 
ments. By B. B. Woodward, B.A. and W. L. R. Cates. 8vo. price 42s. 



Biographical Works. 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY of JOHN MILTON ; or, Milton's Life in his own 
Words. By the Rev. James J. G. Geaham, M.A. Crown 8vo. price 5s. 

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK ; a Political Biography. By the Eight 
Hon. Benjamin - Diseaexi, M.P. Eighth Edition, revised, with a New 
Preface. Crown 8vo. price 6s. 

The LIFE of ISAMBARD KINGDOM BRUNEL, Civil Engineer. 
Bv Isambaed Brttneil, B.C.L. of Lincoln's Inn ; Chancellor of the Diocese 
of Ely. With Portrait, Plates, and Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s, 

•The ROYAL INSTITUTION ; its Founder and its First Professors. 

By Dr. Bence Jones, Honorary Secretary. Post 8vo. price 12s. Qd. 
The LIFE and LETTERS of FARADAY. By Dr. Bence Jones, 

Secretary of the Royal Institution. Second Edition, thoroughly revised. 
2 vols. 8vo. with Portrait, and Eight Engravings on Wood, price 28s. 

FARADAY as a DISCOVERER. By John Tyndall, LL.D. F.RS. 

Professor of Natural Philosophy in the Royal Institution. New and Cheaper 
Edition, with Two Portraits. Pep. 8vo. 3s. Qd. 

RECOLLECTIONS of PAST LIFE. By Sir Henry Holland, Bast. 
M.D. P.R.S. &c.' Physician-in-Ordinary to t the Queen. Third Edition. 
Post 8vo. price 10s. Qd. 

A GROUP of ENGLISHMEN (1795 to 1815) ; Eecords of the Younger 
. Wedgwoods and their Priends, embracing the History of the Discovery of 
Photography. By Eliza Meteyaed. 8vo. price 16s. 



NEW WORKS published bt LONGMANS akd CO. 5 

The LIFE and LETTERS of the Rev. SYDNEY SMITH. Edited 
by his Daughter, Lady Holland, and Mrs. Austin. New Edition, complete 
in One Volume. Crown 8vo. price 6s. 

The LIFE and TRAVELS of GEORGE WHITEFIELD, M.A. By 

James Patebson Gledstone. Svo. price 14s. 
LEADERS of PUBLIC OPINION in IRELAND; Swift, Flood, 

Grattan, O'Connell. By W. E. H. Leckt, M.A. New Edition, revised and 

enlarged. Crown Svo. price 7s. 6d. 

DICTIONARY of GENERAL BIOGRAPHY; containing Concise 
Memoirs and Notices of the most Eminent Persons of all Countries, from 
the Earliest Ages to the Present Time. Edited hy W. L. R. Cates. 8vo„ 21s. 

LIVES of the QUEENS of ENGLAND. By Agnes Strickland. 
Library Edition, newly revised ; with Portraits of every Queen, Autographs, 
and Vignettes. 8 vols, post Svo. 7s. Qd. each. 

LIFE of the DUKE of WELLINGTON. By the Rev. G. R. Gleig, 
M.A. Popular Edition, carefully revised ; with copious Additions. Crown 
8vo. with Portrait, 5s. 

HISTORY of MY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. By J. H. Newman, D.D. 
Being the Substance of Apologia pro Vita Sua. Post Svo. 6s. 

The PONTIFICATE of PIUS the NINTH ; being the Third Edition 
of 'Rome and its Ruler,' continued to the latest moment and greatly 
enlarged. By J. E, Maguiee, M.P. Post Svo. with Portrait, 12s. Qd. 

FATHER BlATEEVT: a Biography. By John Francis Maguibe, 
M.P. for Cork. Popular Edition, with Portrait. Crown Svo. 3s. Qd. 

FELIX MENDELSSOHN'S LETTERS from Italy and Switzerland, 
and Letters from 1833 to 1847, translated by Lady "Wallace. New Edition, 
with Portrait. 2 vols, crown Svo. 5s. each. 

MEMOIRS of SIR HENRY HAVELOCK, E.C.B. By John Clark 

MAESH3IAN. Cabinet Edition, with Portrait. Crown Svo. price 3s. Qd. 

VICISSITUDES of FAMILIES. By Sir J. Bernard Burke, C.B. 
Ulster King of Arms. New Edition, remodelled and enlarged. 2 vols, 
crown Svo. 21s. 

ESSAYS in ECCLESIASTICAL BIOGRAPHY. By the Right Hon. 
Sir J. Stephen, LL.D. Cabinet Edition, being the Eifth. Crown Svo. 7s. Qd, 

MAUNDER' S BIOGRAPHICAL TREASURY. Thirteenth Edition, 
reconstructed, thoroughly revised, and in great part rewritten ; with about 
1,000 additional Memoirs and Notices, by W. L. R. Cates. Ecp. Svo. price 6s. 

LETTERS and LIFE of FRANCIS BACON, including all his Occa- 
sional "Works. Collected and edited, with a Commentary, by J. Speeding, 
Trin. Coll. Cantab. 6 vols. Svo. price £3. 12s. To be completed in One 
more Volume. 



Criticism, Philosophy, Polity, &c. 

A SYSTEMATIC VIEW of the SCIENCE of JURISPRUDENCE. 

By Sheldon Amos, M.A. Professor of Jurisprudence, University College, 
London. Svo. price 18s. 



NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY LONGMANS AND CO. 



The INSTITUTES of JUSTINIAN; with English Introduction, Trans- 
lation, and Notes. By T. C. Sandars, M.A. Barrister slate Fellow of Oriel 
Coll. Oxon. New Edition. 8vo. 15*. 

SOCRATES and the SOCRATIC SCHOOLS. Translated from the 
German of Dr. E. Zeller, with the Author's approval, by the Rev. Oswald 
J. Beichel, B.C.L. and M.A. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. 

The STOICS, EPICUREANS, and SCEPTICS. Translated from the 
German of Dr. E. Zellee, with the Author's approval, by Oswald J. 
Beichel, B.C.L. and M.A. Crown 8vo. price 14s. 

The ETHICS of ARISTOTLE, illustrated with Essays and Notes. 
By Sir A. Geant, Bart. M.A. LL.D. Third Edition, revised and partly 
re- written. [In the press. 

The NICOMACHEAN ETHICS of ARISTOTLE newly translated into 
English. By R. Williams, B.A.Eellow and late Lecturer of Merton College , 
and sometime Student of. Christ Church, Oxford. 8vo. 12s. 

ELEMENTS of LOGIC. By R. Whatelt, D.D. late Archbishop of 

Dublin. New Edition. Svo. 10s. Qd. crown 8vo. 4s. Qd. 

Elements of Rhetoric. By the same Author. New Edition, 8vo. 

105. Qd. crown 8vo. 4s. Qd. 

English Synonymes. By E. Jane Whatelt. Edited by Archbishop 
Whatelt. 5th Edition. Fcp. 3s. 

BACON'S ESSAYS with ANNOTATIONS. By R. Whatelt, D.D. 

late Archbishop of Dublin. Sixth Edition. 8vo.l0s. Qd. 

LORD BACON'S WORKS, collected and edited by J. Sfedding, M.A. 
R. L. Ellis, M.A. and D. D. Heath. New and Cheaper Edition. 7 vols. 
8vo. price £3. 13s. Qd. 

The SUBJECTION of WOMEN. By John Stuart Mill. New 

Edition. Post Svo. 5s. 
On REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT. By John Stuart Mill. 
Third Edition. Svo. 9s. Crown 8vo. 2s. 

On LIBERTY. By John Stuart Mill. Fourth Edition. Post 
8vo. 7s. Qd. Crown 8vo. Is. 4,d. 

PRINCIPLES of POLITICAL ECONOMY. By the same Author. 
Seventh Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. 30s. Or in 1 vol. crown 8vo. 5s. 

A SYSTEM of LOGIC, RATIOCINATIVE and INDUCTIVE. By the 

same Author. Seventh Edition. Two vols. 8vo. 25s. 

UTILITARIANISM. By John Stuart Mill. Fourth Edition. 8vo.5s. 

DISSERTATIONS and DISCUSSIONS, POLITICAL, PHILOSOPHI- 
CAL, and HISTORICAL. By John Stuart Mill. Second Edition, revised. 
3 vols. 8vo. 36s. 

EXAMINATION of Sir W. HAMILTON'S PHILOSOPHY, and of the 
Principal Philosophical Questions discussed in his Writings. By John 
Stuart Mill. Third Edition. 8vo. 16s. 

An OUTLINE of the NECESSARY LAWS of THOUGHT : a Treatise 
on Pure and Applied Logic. By the Most Rev. W. Thomson, Lord Arch- 
bishop of York, D.D. P.B.S. Ninth Thousand. Crown 8vo. 5s. Qd. 



NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS AND CO. 7 

The ELEMENTS of POLITICAL ECONOMY. By Henry Dunning 
Macleod, M.A. Barrister-at-Law. 8vo. 16s. 

A Dictionary of Political Economy, Biographical, Bibliographical, 
Historical, and Practical. By the same Author. Vol. I. royal 8vo. 30s. 

The ELECTION of REPRESENTATIVES, Parliamentary and Muni- 
cipal ; a Treatise. By Thomas Hare, Barrister-at-Law. Third Edition, 
with Additions. Crown 8vo. 6s. 

SPEECHES of the EIGHT HON. LORD MACAULAY, corrected by 
Himself. People's Edition, crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. 

Lord Macaulay's Speeches on Parliamentary Reform in 1831 and 

1832. 16mo. Is. 
A DICTIONARY of the ENGLISH LANGUAGE. By R G. Latham, 
M.A. M.D. F.R.S. Founded on the Dictionary of Dr. Samuel Johnson, as 
edited by the Rev.H. J.Todd, with numerous Emendations and Additions, 
In Pour Volumes, 4to. price £7. 

THESAURUS of ENGLISH WORDS and PHRASES, classified and 
arranged so as to facilitate the Expression of Ideas, and assist in Literary 
Composition. By P. M. Roget, M.D. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 10s. 6d. 

LECTURES on the SCIENCE of LANGUAGE. By F. Max Mulleb, 
M.A. &c. Foreign Member of the French Institute. Sixth Edition. 2 vols, 
crown 8vo. price 16s. . 

CHAPTERS on LANGUAGE. By Frederic W. Farrar, F.R.S. 

Head Master of Marlborough College. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. 

MANUAL of ENGLISH LITERATURE, Historical and Critical. By 
Thomas Arnold, M.A. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. price 7s. 6d. 

THREE CENTURIES of ENGLISH LITERATURE. By Charles 
Duke Tonge, Regius Professor of Modern History and English Literature 
in Queen's College, Belfast. Crown 8vo. pi-ice 7s. 6d. 

SOUTHEY'S DOCTOR, complete in One Volume. Edited by the Rev. 

J. W. Warier, B.D. Square erown 8vo. 12s. 6d. 
HISTORICAL and CRITICAL COMMENTARY on the OLD TESTA- 

MENT ; with a New Translation. By M. M. Kalisch, Ph.D. Vol. I. 

Genesis, 8vo. 18s. or adapted for the General Reader, 12s. Vol. II. Exodus 

15s. or adapted for the General Reader, 12s. Vol. III. Leviticus. Part I. 

15s. or adapted for the General Reader, 8s. Vol. IV. Leviticus, Part II. 

15s. or adapted for the General Reader, 8s. 

A HEBREW GRAMMAR, with EXERCISES. By M. M. Kalisch, 

Ph.D. Part I. Outlines with Exercises, 8vo. 12s. Qd. Key, 5s. Part II. 

Exceptional Forms and Constructions, 12s. 6d. 
A LATIN-ENGLISH DICTIONARY. By John T. White, D.D. 

Oxon. and J. E. Riddle, M.A. Oxon. Third Edition, revised. 2 vols. 4to. 

pp. 2,128, price 42s. cloth. 

White's College Latin-English Dictionary (Intermediate Size), 
abridged for the use of University Students from the Parent Wort (as 
above). Medium 8vo. pp. 1,048, price 18s. cloth. 

White's Junior Student's Complete Latin-English and English-Latin 
Dictionary. New Edition. Square 12mo. pp. 1,058, price 12s. 
o ono ,.- f The ENGLISH-LATIN DICTIONARY, price 5s. Qd. 
separately j The LATIN-ENGLISH DICTIONARY, price 7s. Qd, 



NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS AND CO. 



An ENGLISH-GREEK LEXICON, containing all the Greek Words 
used by Writers of good authority. By C. D. Yoitge, B.A. New Edi- 
tion. 4to. 21s. 

Mr. YONGE'S NEW LEXICON, English and Greek, abridged from 

his larger work (as above). Revised Edition. Square 12mo. 8*. Gd. 
A GEEEK-ENGLISH LEXICON. Compiled by H. G. Liddell, D.D. 

Dean of Christ Church, and R. Scott, D.D. Dean of Rochester. Sixth 
Edition. Crown 4to. price 36s. 

A Lexicon, Greek and English, abridged from Liddell and Scott's 

Greek-English Lexicon. Fourteenth Edition. Square 12mo. 7s. Gd. 

A SANSKRIT-ENGLISH DICTIONARY, the Sanskrit words printed 
both in the original Devanagari and in Roman Letters. Compiled by 
T. Beneey, Prof, in the Univ. of Gottingen. 8vo. 52s. Gd. 

A PRACTICAL DICTIONARY of the FRENCH and ENGLISH LAN- 
GUAGES. By L. Contanseaxt. Fourteenth Edition. Post 8vo. 10s. Gd. 

Contanseau's Pocket Dictionary, French and English, abridged from 
the above by the Author. New Edition, revised. Square 18mo. Ss. Gd. 

NEW PRACTICAL DICTIONARY of the GERMAN LANGUAGE; 
German-English and English-German. By the Rev. W. L. Blacexey, M.A. 
and Dr. Cael Martin Eriedlandee. Post 8vo. 7s. Gd. 

The M&STERY of LANGUAGES ; or, the Art of Speaking Foreign 
Tongues Idiomatically. By Thomas Peendeegast, late of the Civil 
Service at Madras. Third Edition. 8vo. 6s. 



Miscellaneous Works and Popular Metaphysics. 

MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS of JOHN CONINGTON, M.A. late 
Corpus Professor of Latin in the University of Oxford. Edited by J. A. 
Symonds, M.A. With a Memoir by H. J. S. Smith, M.A. LL.D. F.RS. 
2 vols. 8vo. price 28s. 

SEASIDE MUSINGS ON SUNDAYS AND WEEK-DAYS. By 
A. K. H. B. Crown 8vo. price 3s. Gd. 

RECREATIONS OF A COUNTRY PARSON. By A. K. H. B. First 
and Second Seeies, crown 8vo. 3s. Gd. each. 

The COMMON-PLACE PHILOSOPHER in TOWN and COUNTRY. By 
A. K. H. B. Crown 8vo. price 3s. Gd. 

Leisure Hours in Town ; Essays Consolatory, JEsthetical, Moral, 
Social, and Domestic. By A. K. H. B. Crown 8vo. 3s. Gd. 

The AUTUMN HOLIDAYS of a COUNTRY PARSON ; Essays con- 
tributed to Eraser's Magazine and to Good Words. By A. K. H. B. Crown 
8vo. 3s. Gd. 

The Graver Thoughts of a Country Parson. By A. K. H. B. First 
and Second Seeies, crown 8vo. 3s. Gd. each. 

Critical Essays of a Country Parson, selected from Essays con- 
tributed to Eraser's Magazine. By A. K.EL B. Crown 8vo.3s. Gd. 



NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS and CO. 9 

SUNDAY AFTERNOONS at the PAEISH CHURCH of a SCOTTISH 

UNIVERSITY CITY. By A. K. H. B. Crown 8vo. 3s. Qd. 
Lessons of Middle Age ; with some Account of various Cities and 

Men. By A. K. H. B. Crown 8vo. 35. Qd. 
Counsel and Comfort spoken from a City Pulpit. By A. K. H. B. 

Crown 8vo. price 3s. Qd. 
Changed Aspects of Unchanged Truths ; Memorials of St. Andrews 

Sundays. By A. K. H.B. Crown 8vo. 3s. Qd. 
Present-day Thoughts ; Memorials of St. Andrews Sundays. By 

A. K. H. B. Crown Svo. 35. Qd. 
SHORT STUDIES on GREAT SUBJECTS. By James Anthony 

Froude, M.A.. ; late Fellow of Exeter Coll. Oxford. 2 vols. cr. Svo. price 125. 
LORD MACAULAY'S MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS:— 
Library Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. Portrait, 2ls. 
People's Edition. 1 vol. crown 8vo. 4s. Qd. 

LORD MACAULAY'S MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS and SPEECHES. 

Student's Edition, in crown 8vo. price 65. 
The Rev. SYDNEY SMITH'S MISCELLANEOUS WORKS ; includ- 
ing his Contributions to the Edinburgh Review. Crown 8vo. 65. 
The Wit and Wisdom of the Rev. Sydney Smith; a Selection of 

the most memorable Passages in his "Writings and Conversation. 16mo. 3*. Qd. 

The ECLIPSE of FAITH ; or, a Visit to a Religious Sceptic. By 
Henry Rogers. Twelfth Edition. Fcp. Svo. price 5s. 

Defence of the Eclipse of Faith, by its Author ; a rejoinder to Dr. 
Newman's Reply. Third Edition. Fcp. 8vo. price 35. Qd. 

FAMILIES of SPEECH, Four Lectures delivered at the Royal 
Institution of Great Britain. By the Rev. P. W. Parrar, MA. P.R.S. 
Head Master of Marlborough College. Post Svo. with Two Maps, 55. Qd. 

CHIPS from a GERMAN WORKSHOP ; being Essays on the Science 
of Religion, and on Mythology, Traditions, and Customs. By F. Max 
Mulder, MIA. &c. Poreign Member of the French Institute. 3 vols. Svo. £2. 

UEBERWEG'S SYSTEM of LOGIC and HISTORY of LOGICAL 

DOCTRINES. Translated, with Notes and Appendices, by T. M. Lindsay, 
M.A. P.R.S.E. Examiner in Philosophy to the University of Edinburgh. 
8vo. price 16s. 

ANALYSIS of the PHENOMENA of the HUMAN MIND. By 

James Mill. A New Edition, with Notes, Illustrative and Critical, by 
Alexander Bain, Andrew Findlater, and George Grote. Edited, 
with additional Notes, by John Stuart Mild. 2 vols. Svo. price 28s. 

An INTRODUCTION to MENTAL PHILOSOPHY, on the Inductive 

Method. By J.D. Morell,M.A.LL.D. 8vo.l2s. 
ELEMENTS of PSYCHOLOGY, containing the Analysis of the 

Intellectual Powers. By the same Author. Post 8vo. 7s. Qd. 

The SECRET of HEGEL: being the Hegelian System in Origin, 
Principle, Form, and Matter. By J. H. Stirling, LL.D. 2. vols. 8vo. 28s. 

SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON; being the Philosophy of Perception : an 
Analysis. By J. H. Stirling, LL.D. 8vo* 5s. 



10 NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS AND CO. 

As REGARDS PROTOPLASM. By J. H. Stirling, LL.D. Second 
Edition, with. Additions, in reference to Mr. Huxley's Second Issue and a 
new Preface in reply to Mr. Huxley in ' Yeast.' 8vo. price 2s. 

The SENSES and the INTELLECT. By Alexander Bain, M.D. 

Professor of Logic in the University of Aberdeen. Third Edition. 8vo. 15s. 
MENTAL and MORAL SCIENCE: a Compendium of Psychology 

and Ethics. By the same Author. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 10.?. 6d. 

Or separately : Part I, Mental Science, price 6s. 6d. ; Part II. Moral 

Science, price 4s. 6d. 

LOGIC, DEDUCTIVE and INDUCTIVE. By the same Author. In 
Two Parts, crown 8vo. 10s. 6d. Each Part may be had separately :— 
Part I, Deduction, 4s. Part II. Induction, 6s. 6d. 

TIME and SPACE; a Metaphysical Essay. By Shadworth H. 
Hodgson. (This work covers the whole ground of Speculative Philosophy.) 
8vo. price 16s. 

The Theory of Practice ; an Ethical Inquiry. By the same Author. 
(This work, in conjunction with the foregoing, completes a system of Philo- 
sophy.) 2 vols. 8vo. price 24s. 

The PHILOSOPHY of NECESSITY ; or, Natural Law as applicable to 
Mental, Moral, and Social Science. By Charles Brat. Second Edition. 
8vo. 9s. 

A Manual of Anthropology, or Science of Man, based on Modern 
Research. By the same Author. Crown 8vo. price 6s. 

On Force, its Mental and Moral Correlates. By the same Author. 
8vo. 5s. 

The DISCOVERY of a NEW WORLD of BEING. By George 
Thomson. Post 8vo. price 6s. 

A TREATISE on HUMAN NATURE ; being an Attempt to Introduce 

the Experimental Method of Reasoning into Moral Subjects. By David 
Hume. Edited, with Notes, &c. by T. H. Green, Eellow, and T. H. 
Grose, late Scholar, of Balliol College, Oxford. 2 vols. 8vo. [In the press. 

ESSAYS MORAL, POLITICAL, and LITERARY. By David Hume. 

By the same Editors. 2 vols. 8vo. [In the press. 



Astronomy, Meteorology, Popular Geography, &c. 

OUTLINES of ASTRONOMY. By Sir J. F. W. Herschel, Bart. 
M.A. Eleventh Edition, with 9 Plates and numerous Diagrams. Square 
crown 8vo. price 12s. 

ESSAYS on ASTRONOMY : a Series of Papers on Planets and Meteors, 
the Sun and sun-surrounding Space, Stars and Star Cloudlets ; and a Disser- 
tation on the approaching Transit of Venus : preceded by a Sketch of the 
Life and Work of Sir John Herschel. By Richard A. Proctor, B.A. Hon. 
Sec. R.A.S. With 10 Plates and 24 Woodcuts. 8vo. price 12s. 

The SUN ; RULER, LIGHT, FIRE, and LIFE of the PLANETARY 

SYSTEM. By Richard A. Proctor, B.A. E.R.A.S. Second Edition, 
with 10 Plates (7 coloured) and 107 Figures on Wood. Crown Svo. 14s. 



NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS and CO. n 



OTHER WORLDS THAN DUES ; the Plurality of Worlds Studied 
under the Light of Recent Scientific Researches. By the same Author. 
Second Edition, with 14 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 10*. Gd. 

THE ORBS AROUND US ; a Series of Familiar Essays on the Moon 
and Planets, Meteors and Comets, the Sun and Coloured Pairs of Stars. 
By the same Author. Crown 8vo. price 7*. Gd. 

SATURN and its SYSTEM. By the same Author. 8vo. with 14 Plates, 14*. 

SCHELLEN'S SPECTRUM ANALYSIS, in its application to Terres- 
trial Suhstances and the Physical Constitution of the Heavenly Bodies. 
Translated by Jane and C. Lassexl ; edited, with Notes, by W. Huggins, 
LL.D. P.R.S. With 13 Plates (6 coloured) and 223 Woodcuts. Svo. price 28s. 

A NEW STAR ATLAS, for the Library, the School, andthe Observatory, 
in Twelve Circular Maps (with Two Index Plates). Intended as a Com- 

E anion to 'Webb's Celestial Objects for Common Telescopes.' With a 
letterpress Introduction on the Study of the Stars, illustrated by 9 Dia- 
grams. By Richaed A. Peoctoe, B.A. Hon. Sec. R.A.S. Crown Svo. 5s. 

CELESTIAL OBJECTS for COMMON TELESCOPES. By the Eev. 
T.W.Webb, M.A. F.RA.S. New Edition, revised, with a large Map of 
the Moon, and several Woodcuts. \In the press. 

AIR and RAIN : the Beginnings of a Chemical Climatology. Ry 
Robeet Angus Smith, Ph.D. P.R.S. P.C.S. Government Inspector of 
Alkali Works. With 8 Illustrations. Svo. price 24s. 

NAUTICAL SURVEYING, an INTRODUCTION to the PRACTICAL 
and THEORETICAL STUDY of. By John Enox Latjghiox, M.A. 
E.R.A.S. Small Svo. price 6s. 

NAVIGATION and NAUTICAL ASTRONOMY (Practical, Theoretical, 

Scientific) for the use of Students and Practical Men. By J. Mebbieiei/d, 
E.R.A.S and H. Evees. Svo. 14s. 

MAGNETISM and DEVIATION of the COMPASS. For the Use of 
Students in Navigation and Science Schools. By John Meebifield, LL.D. 
E.R.A.S. 18mo. price Is. Gd. 

DOVE'S LAW of STORMS, considered in connexion with the Ordinary 
Movements of the Atmosphere. Translated by R. H.Scon, M.A. T.CtD. 
8vo. 10s. Gd. , 

A GENERAL DICTIONARY of GEOGRAPHY, Descriptive, Physical, 
Statistical, and Historical : forming a complete Gazetteer of the World. By 
A. Keith Johnston, LL.D. E.R.G.S. Revised Edition. 8vo. 31s. Gd. 

A MANUAL of GEOGRAPHY, Physical, Industrial, and Political. 
By W. Hughes, F.R.G.S. With 6 Maps. Ecp.7s. Gd. 

MAUNDER' S TREASURY of GEOGRAPHY, Physical, Historical, 
Descriptive, and Political. Edited by W. Ht/ghes, E.R.G.S. Revised 
Edition, with 7 Maps and 16 Plates. Fcp. Gs. cloth, or 10s. bound in calf. 

The PUBLIC SCHOOLS ATLAS of MODERN GEOGRAPHY. In 
31 Maps, exhibiting clearly the more important Physical Features of the 
Countries delineated, and Noting all the Chief Places of Historical, Com- 
mercial, or Social Interest. Edited, with an Introduction, by the Rev. G. 
Buiiee, M.A. Imp. 4to. price 8s. Gd. sewed, or 5s. cloth. 



12 NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY LONGMANS AND CO. 

Natural History and Popular Science. 

TEXT-BOOKS of SCIENCE, MECHANICAL and PHYSICAL. 

The following Text-Books may now be had, price Ss.Gd. each:— 

1. Goodeve's Mechanism. 

2. Bloxam's Metals. 

3. Miller's Inorganic Chemistry. 

4. Griffin's Algebra and Trigonometry. 

5. Watson's Plane and Solid Geometry. 

6. Maxwell's Theory of Heat. 

7. SI errieield's Technical Arithmetic and Mensuration. 

ELEMENTARY TREATISE on PHYSICS, Experimental and Applied. 

Translated and edited from Ganot's Elements de PJiysique (with the 
Author's sanction) by E. Atkinson, Ph.D. F.C.S. New Edition, revised 
and enlarged ; with a Coloured Plate and 726 Woodcuts. Post 8vo. 15*. 

NATURAL PHILOSOPHY for GENERAL READERS and YOUNG 

PERSONS ; being a Course of Physics divested of Mathematical Formulae, 
expressed in the language of daily life. Translated from Ganot's Ccnirs 
de Physique, with the Author's sanction, by E. Atkinson, Ph.D. F.C.S 
Crown Svo. with 401 Woodcuts, price Is. Qd. 

Mrs. MARCET'S CONVERSATIONS on NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Revised by the Author's Son, and augmented by Conversations on Spectrum 
Analysis and Solar Chemistry. With 36 Plates. Crown Svo. price 7s. Qd. 

SOUND : a Course of Eight Lectures delivered at the Royal Institution 
of Great Britain. By John Ttndall, LL.D. F.R.S. New Edition, crown 
8vo. with Portrait of M. Chladni and 169 Woodcuts, price 9s. 

HEAT a MODE of MOTION. By Professor John Ttndall, LL.D. 
P.R.S. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. with Woodcuts, 10*. Qd. 

CONTRIBUTIONS to MOLECULAR PHYSICS in the DOMAIN of 
RADIANT HEAT ; a Series of Memoirs published in the Philosophical 
Transactions and Philosophical Magazine. By John Ttndall, LL.D. F.R.S. 
With 2 Plates and 31 Woodcuts. Svo. price 16s. 

RESEARCHES on DIAMAGNETISM and MAGNE-CRYSTALLIC 
ACTION ; including the Question of Diamagnetic Polarity. By the same 
Author. With 6 Plates and many Woodcuts. 8vo. price 14?. 

NOTES of a COURSE of SEVEN LECTURES on ELECTRICAL 
PHENOMENA and THEORIES, delivered at the Royal Institution, 
a.d. 1S70. By John Ttndall, LL.D. Crown Svo. Is. sewed, or ls.Qd. cloth. 

NOTES of a COURSE of NINE LECTURES on LIGHT delivered at the 

Royal Institution, a.d. 1869. By the same Author. Crown Svo. price Is. 

sewed, or Is. Qd. cloth. 
FRAGMENTS of SCIENCE. By John Ttndall, LL.D. F.R.S. Third 

Edition. Svo. price 14s. 
LIGHT SCIENCE for LEISURE HOURS; a Series of Familiar 

Essays on Scientific Subjects, Natural Phenomena, &c. By R. A. Proctob, 

B.A. P.R.A.S. Crown 8vo. price 7s. Qd. 

LIGHT : Its Influence on Life and Health. By Forbes Winslow, 

M.D. D.C.L. Oxon. (Hon.). Fcp. Svo. 6s. 
A TREATISE on ELECTRICITY, in Theory and Practice. By A. 

De la Rive, Prof, in the Academy of Geneva. Translated by C. V. Waxkeb 

F.R.S. 3 vols. Svo. with Woodcuts. £3. 13s. 



NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS and CO. IS 

The CORRELATION of PHYSICAL FORCES. By W. E. Grove, 
Q.C. V.P.R.S. Fifth Edition, revised, and ir.llnwed by a Discourse on Con- 
tinuity. 8vo. 10s. Qd. The Discourse on Continuity, separately, 2s. &d. 

VAN DER HOEVEN'S HANDBOOK of ZOOLOGY. Translated from 
the Second Dutch Edition by the Rev. W. Clark, MJ). F.R.S. 2 vols. 8vo. 
with 24 Plates of Figures, 60s. 

Professor OWEN'S LECTURES on the COMPARATIVE ANATOMY 

and Physiology of the Invertebrate Animals. Second Edition, .with 235 
Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s. 

The COMPARATIVE ANATOMY and PHYSIOLOGY of the VERTE- 

brate Animals. By Richard Owen, F.R.S. D.C.L. With 1,472 Wood- 
cuts. 3 vols. 8vo. £3 1 3s. Qd. 

The ANCIENT STONE IMPLEMENTS, WEAPONS, and ORNA- 
MENTS of GREAT BRITAIN. By John Evans, P.R.S. E.S.A. With 
2 Plates and 476 Woodcuts. 8vo. price 28s. 

The ORIGIN of CIVILISATION and the PRIMITIVE CONDITION 
of MAN : Mental and Social Condition of Savages. By Sir John Lubbock, 
Bart. M.P. E.R.S. Second Edition, with 25 Woodcuts. 8vo. price 16s. 

The PRIMITIVE INHABITANTS of SCANDINAVIA : containing a 
Description of the Implements, Dwellings, Tombs, and Mode of Living of 
the Savages in the North of Europe during the Stone Age. By Sven 
NiLSSON. With 16 Plates of Figures and 3 Woodcuts. 8vo. 18s. 

MANKIND, their ORIGIN and DESTINY. By an M.A. of Balliol 
College, Oxford. Containing a New Translation of the First Three Chapters 
of Genesis ; a Critical Examination of the First Two Gospels ; an Explana- 
tion of the Apocalypse ; and the Origin and Secret I\J eaning of the Mytholo- 
gical and Mystical Teaching of the Ancients. With 31 Illustrations. 8vo. 
price 31s. 6d. 

BIBLE ANIMALS ; being a Description of every Living Creature 
mentioned in the Scriptures, from the Ape to the Coral. Bv the Rev. J. G. 
Wood, MA. F.L.S. With about 100 Vignettes on Wood. 8vo. 21s. 

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS ; a Description of the Habitations of 
Animals, classed according to their Principle of Construction. By the Rev. 
J. G. Wood, M.A. F.L.S. With about 140 Vignettes on Wood. 8vo. 21s. 

INSECTS AT HOME; a Popular Account of British Insects, their 
Structure, Habits, and Transformations. By the Rev, J. G. Wood, MA. 
F.L.S. With upwards of 700 Illustrations engraved on Wood (1 coloured 
and 21 full size of page). 8vo. price 21s. 

STRANGE DWELLINGS; a description of the Habitations of 
Animals, abridged from ' Homes without Hands.' By the Rev. J. G. Wood, 
M.A. F.L.S. With about 60 Woodcut Illustrations. Crown 8vo. price 7s. 6d. 

An EXPOSITION of FALLACIES in the HYPOTHESIS of Mr. 
DARWIN. By C. R. Bbee, M.D. F.Z.S. Author of ' Birds of Europe not 
observed in the British Isles ' &c. With 36 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo. price 14s. 

A FAMILIAR HISTORY of BIRDS. By E. Stanley, D.D. F.R.S. 

late Lord Bishop of Norwich. Seventh Edition, with Woodcuts. Fcp. 3s. 6(7. 

The HARMONIES of NATURE and UNITY cf CSEATION. By Dr. 

GEORGE Hartwig. 8vo. with numerous Illustrations, 18s. 
The SEA and its LIVING WONDERS. By the same Author. Third 
(English) Edition. 8vo. with many Illustrations, 21s. 



14 NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS AND CO. 

The SUBTERRANEAN WORLD. By Dr. George Hartwig. With 
3 Maps and about 80 Woodcuts, including 8 full size of page. 8vo. price 21s. 

The POLAR WORLD ; a Popular Description of Man and Nature in the 
Arctic and Antarctic Regions of the Globe. By Dr. George Hartwig . 
With 8 Chromoxylographs, 3 Maps, and 85 Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s. 

KIRBY and SPENCE'S INTRODUCTION to ENTOMOLOGY, or 

Elements of the Natural History of Insects. 7th Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s, 
MAUNDER' S TREASURY of NATURAL HISTORY, or Popular 
Dictionary of Zoology. Revised and corrected by T. S. Cobbold, M.D. 
Fcp. with 900 Woodouts, 6s. cloth, or 10s. bound in calf. 

The TREASURY of BOTANY, or Popular Dictionary of the Vegetable 
Kingdom ; including a Glossary of Botanical Terms. Edited by J. Lindley, 
F.R.S. and T. Moore, F.L.S. assisted by eminent Contributors, With 274 
Woodcuts and 20 Steel Plates. Two Parts, fcp. 12s. cloth, or 20s. calf. 

The ELEMENTS of BOTANY for FAMILIES and SCHOOLS. 
Tenth Edition, revised by Thomas Moore, F.L.S. Fcp. with 154 Wood- 
cuts, 2s. Qd. 

The ROSE AMATEUR'S GUIDE. By Thomas Kivers. Twelfth 
Edition. Fcp. 4s. 

LOUDON'S ENCYCLOPEDIA of PLANTS; comprising the Specific 
Character, Description, Culture, History, &c. of all the Plants found in 
Great Britain. With upwards of 12,000 Woodcuts. 8vo. 42s. 

MAUNDERS SCIENTIFIC and LITERARY TREASURY. New 

Edition, thoroughly revised and in great part re-written, with above 1,000 
new Articles, by J. Y. Johnson, Corr. M.Z.S. Pep. 6s. cloth, or 10s. calf. 
A DICTIONARY of SCIENCE, LITERATURE, and ART. Fourth 
Edition, re-edited by W. T. Brande (the original Author), and George W. 
Cox, M.A. assisted by contributors of eminent Scientific and Literary 
Acquirements. 3 vols, medium 8vo. price 63s. cloth. 



Chemistry, Medicine, Surgery, and the 

Allied Sciences. 

A DICTIONARY of CHEMISTRY and the Allied Branches of other 
Sciences. By Henry Watts, F.R.S. assisted by eminent Contributors 
Complete in 5 vols, medium 8vo. £7 3s. 

Supplement ; bringing the Kecord of Chemical Discovery down to 
the end of the year 1869 ; including also several Additions to, and Corrections 
of, former results which have appeared in 1870 and 1871. By Henry Watts, 
B.A. F.R.S. F.C.S. Assisted by eminent Scientific and Practical Chemists, 
Contributors to the Original Work. 8vo. price 31s. Qd. 

ELEMENTS of CHEMISTRY, Theoretical and Practical. By W. Allen 
Miller, M.D. late Prof, of Chemistry, King's Coll. London. New 
Edition. 3 vols. 8vo. £3. Part I. Chemical Physics, 15s. Part II. 
Inorganic Chemistry, 21s. Part III. Organic Chemistry, 24s. 

OUTLINES of CHEMISTRY; or, Brief Notes of Chemical Facts. 
By William Odling, M.B. F.R.S. Crown 8vo. 7s. Qd. 

A Course of Practical Chemistry, for the use of Medical Students. 
By the same Author. New Edition, with 70 Wood( uts. Crown Svo. 7s. Qd. 



NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY LONGMANS AND CO. 15 

A MANUAL of CHEMICAL PHYSIOLOGY, including its Points of 
Contact with Pathology. By J. L. W. Thttdichum, M.D, With Woodcuts. 
8vo. price 7s. 6cZ. 

SELECT METHODS in CHEMICAL ANALYSIS, chiefly INOR- 
GANIC. By William Cbookes, F.R.S. With 22 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo. 
price 12s. 6d. 

CHEMICAL NOTES for the LECTURE ROOM. By Thomas Wood, 

F.C.S. 2 vols, crown 8vo. I. on Heat &c. price 5s. II. on the Metals, 5s. 
The DIAGNOSIS, PATHOLOGY, and TREATMENT of DISEASES 

of Women j including the Diagnosis of Pregnancy. By Geaily Hewitt, 
M.D. Third Edition, partly re-written ; with numerous additional Illus- 
trations. 8vo. price 24s. 

On SOME DISORDERS of the NERVOUS SYSTEM in CHILD- 
HOOD ; being the Lumleian Lectures delivered before the Royal College of 
Physicians in March 1871. By Chaeles West, M.D. Crown 8vo. price 5s. 

LECTURES on the DISEASES of INFANCY and CHILDHOOD. By 
Charles West, M.D. &c. Fifth Edition, revised and enlarged. 8vo. 16s. 

A SYSTEM of SURGERY, Theoretical and Practical. In Treatises 
by Various Authors. Edited by T. Holmes, M.A. &c. Surgeon and Lecturer 
on Surgery at St. George's Hospital, and Surgeon-in-Chief to the Metro- 
politan Police. Second Edition, thoroughly revised, with numerous Illus- 
trations. 5 vols. 8vo. £5 5s. 

The SURGICAL TREATMENT of CHILDREN'S DISEASES. By 

T. Holmes, M.A. &c. late Surgeon to the Hospital for Sick Children. 
Second Edition, with 9 Plates and 112 Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s. 

LECTURES on the PRINCIPLES and PRACTICE of PHYSIC. By 

Sir Thomas Watson, Bart. M.D. Fifth Edition, thoroughly revised. 
2 vols. 8vo. price 36s. 

LECTURES on SURGICAL PATHOLOGY. By Sir James Paget, 

Bart. F.R.S. Third Edition, revised and re-edited by the Author and 
Professor W. Tubnee, M.B. 8vo. with 131 Woodcuts, 21s. 

COOPER'S DICTIONARY of PRACTICAL SURGERY and Encyclo- 
paedia of Surgical Science. New Edition, brought down to the present time. 
By S. A. Lane, Surgeon to St. Mary's Hospital, assisted by various Eminent 
Surgeons. Vol. II. 8vo. completing the work. [J» the press. 

On CHRONIC BRONCHITIS, especially as connected with GOUT, 
EMPHYSEMA, and DISEASES of the HEART. By E. Headlam 
Geeenhow, M.D. F.R.C.P. &c. 8vo. 7s. Gd. 

The CLIMATE of the SOUTH of FRANCE as SUITED to INVALIDS; 

with Notices of Mediterranean and other Winter Stations. By C. T. 
Williams, M.A. M.D. Oxon. Assistant-Physician to the Hospital for Con- 
sumption at Brompton. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 

REPORTS on the PROGRESS of PRACTICAL and SCIENTIFIC 

MEDICINE in Different Parts of the World. Edited by Hoeace Dobell, 
M.D. assisted by numerous aud distinguished Coadjutors, Vols. I. and IL 
8vo. 18s. each. 

PULMONARY CONSUMPTION ; its Natnre, Varieties, and Treat- 
ment : with an Analysis of One Thousand Cases to exemplify its Duration. 
By C. J. B. Williams, M.D. F.R.S. and C. T. Williams, MA. M J). Oxon. 

Post 8vo. price 10s. Qd. 



16 NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS AND CO. 

CLINICAL LECTURES on DISEASES of the LIVER, JAUNDICE, 
and ABDOMINAL DROPSY. By Charles Murchison, M.D. Post 8vo. 
with 25 Woodcuts, 10s. Gd; 

ANATOMY, DESCRIPTIVE and SURGICAL. By Henry Gray, 
P.R.S. With about 400 Woodcuts from Dissections. Pifth Edition, by 
T. Holmes, M.A. Cantab, with a new Introduction by^the Editor. Royal 
8vo. 285. 

OUTLINES of PHYSIOLOGY, Human and Comparative. By John 
Marshall, P.R.C.S. Surgeon to the University College Hospital. 2 vols, 
crown 8vo. with 122 Woodcuts, 32s. 

PHYSIOLOGICAL ANATOMY and PHYSIOLOGY of MAN. By the 
late R. B. Todd, M.D. P.R.S. and W. Bowman, P.R.S. of King's College. 
With numerous Illustrations. Vol. II. 8vo. 25s. 

Vol. I. New Edition by Dr. Lionel S. Be ale, P.R.S. in course of publi- 
cation, with many Illustrations. Parts I. and II. price 7s. 6d. each. 

COPLAND'S DICTIONARY of PRACTICAL MEDICINE, abridged 
from the larger work and throughout brought down to the present State 
of Medical Science. 8vo. 36s. 

On the MANUFACTURE of BEET-ROOT SUGAR in ENGLAND 
and IRELAND. By William Cbookes, PJt.S. Crown 8vo, with 11 
Woodcuts, 8s. &d. 

DR. PEREIRA'S ELEMENTS of MATERIA MEDIC A and THERA- 
PEUTICS, abridged and adapted for the use of Medical and Pharmaceutical 
Practitioners and Students ; and comprising all the Medicines of the 
British Pharmacopoeia, with such others as are frequently ordered in Pre- 
scriptions or required bv the Physician. Edited by Professor Bentley, 
P.L.S. &c. and by Dr. Redwood, F.CLS. &c. With 125 Woodcut Illustra- 
tions. 8vo. price 25s. 



The Fine Arts, and Illustrated Editions. 

IN FAIRYLAND; Pictures from the Elf-World. By Richard 
Doyle. With a Poem by W. Allingham. With Sixteen Plates, containing 
Thirty-six Designs printed in Colours. Polio, 31s. 6d. 

HALF-HOUR LECTURES on the HISTORY and PRACTICE of the 

Fine and Ornamental Arts. By William B. Scott. New Edition, revised 
by the Author ; with 50 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. 
ALBERT DURER, HIS LIFE and WORKS; including Auto- 
biographical Papers and Complete Catalogues. By William B. Scott. 
With Six Etchings by the Author, and other niustrations. 8vo. 16s. 

The CHORALE BOOK for ENGLAND: the Hymns translated by 

Miss C. Winkworth ; the Tunes arranged by Prof. W. S. Bennett and 
Otto Goldschmidt. Fcp. 4to. 12s. 6d. 

The NEW TESTAMENT, illustrated with Wood Engravings after the 
Early Masters, chiefly of the Italian School. Crown 4to.83s. cloth, gilt top ; 
or £5. 5s. elegantly bound in morocco. 

LYRA GERMANICA ; the Christian Year. Translated by Catherine 
Winkwoeth; with 125 Illustrations on Wood drawn by J. Leighton, 
P.S.A. 4to. 21s. 



NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS akt> CO. 17 



LYRA GERMANIC A ; the Christian Life. Translated by Catherine 
Winkworth ; with about 200 Woodcut Illustrations by J, Leighton, F.S.A. 
and other Artists. 4to. 21s. 

The LIFE of MAN SYMBOLISED by the MONTHS of the YEAB. 

Text selected by E. Pigot ; Illustrations on Wood from Original Designs by 
J. Lbightost, F.S.A. 4to. 42s. 

CATS' and FARLIE'S MORAL EMBLEMS ; with Aphorisms, Adages, 
and Proverbs of all Nations. 121 Illustrations on Wood by J. Leightof, 
F.S.A. Text selected by R. Pigot. Imperial 8vo.31s. 6d. 

SACRED and LEGENDARY ART. By Mrs. Jameson. 
Legends of the Saints and Martyrs. New Edition, with 19 
Etchings and 187 Woodcuts. 2 vols, square crown 8vo. 81s. 6d. 

Legends of the Monastic Orders. New Edition, with 11 Etchings 
and 88 Woodcuts. 1 vol. square crown 8vo. 21s. 

Legends of the Madonna. New Edition, with 27 Etchings and 
165 Woodcuts. 1 vol. square crown 8vo. 21s. 

The History of Our Lord, with that of his Types and Precursors. 
Completed by Lady Eastlake. Revised Edition, with 31 Etchings and 
281 Woodcuts. 2 vols, square crown 8vo. 42s. 



The Useful Arts, Manufactures, &c. 

HISTORY of the GOTHIC REVIVAL ; an Attempt to shew how far 

the taste for Mediaeval Architecture was retained in England during the 
last two centuries, and has been re-developed in the present. By C. L. East- 
lake, Architect. With 48 Illustrations (3d full size of page). Imperial 8vo. 
price 31s. Qd. 

GWILT'S ENCYCLOPEDIA of ARCHITECTURE, with above 1,600 
Engravings on Wood. Eifth Edition, revised and enlarged by Wyatt 
Pafwoeth. 8vo. 52s. Gd. 

A MANUAL of ARCHITECTURE: being a Concise History and 
Explanation of the principal Styles of European Architecture, Ancient, 
Mediseval, and Renaissance; with a Glossary of Technical Terms. By 
Thomas Mitchell. Crown 8vo. with 150 Woodcuts, 10*. 6d. 

HINTS on HOUSEHOLD TASTE in FURNITURE, UPHOLSTERY, 
and other Details. By Charles L. Eastlake, Architect. New Edition 
with about 90 Illustrations. Square crown 8vo. 18s. 

PRINCIPLES of MECHANISM, designed for the Use of Students in 
the Universities, and for Engineering Students generally. By K 
Willis, M.A. E.'R.S. &c. Jacksonian Professor in the University of Gam- 
bridge. Second Edition, enlarged ; with 374 Woodcuts. 8vo. 18s. 

LATHES and TURNING, Simple, Mechanical, and ORNAMENTAL. 
By W. Henry Nosthcott. With about 240 Illustrations on Steel and 
Wood. 8vo. 18s. 

PERSPECTIVE ; or, the Art of Drawing what one Sees. Explained 
and adapted to the use of those Sketching from Nature. By Lieut. W. H. 
Collins, RE. E.Ii.A.S. With 37 Woodcuts. Crown Svo. price 5s. 



18 NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS akd CO. 



URE'S DICTIONARY of ARTS, MANUFACTURES, and MINES. 

Sirth Edition, chiefly rewritten and greatly enlarged by Robeet Hunt, 

E.R.S. assisted by numerous Contributors eminent in Science and the 

Arts, and familiar with Manufactures. With above 2,000 Woodcuts. 3 vols. 

medium 8vo. price £4. 14s. Gd. 
HANDBOOK of PRACTICAL TELEGRAPHY. By R. S. Culley, 

Memb. Inst. C.E. Enedneer-in-Chief of Telegraphs to the Post Office. 

Eifth Edition, with 118 Woodcuts and 9 Plates. 8vo. price 14s. 
ENCYCLOPEDIA of CIVIL ENGINEERING, Historical, Theoretical, 

and Practical. By E. Ceesy, C.E. With above 3,000 Woodcuts. 8vo. 42s. 

The STRAINS in TRUSSES Computed by means of Diagrams ; with 

20 Examples drawn to Scale. By F. A. Ri^KE^, M.A. C.E. Lecturer at 

the Hartley Institution, Southampton. With 35 Diagrams. Square crown 

Svo. price 6s. Gd. 
TREATISE on MILLS and HILLWORE. By Sir W. Fairbatbn 

Bart. E.R.S. New Edition, with 18 Plates and 322 Woodcuts. 2 vols 

8vo. 32s. 
USEFUL INFORMATION for ENGINEERS. By the same Author. 

Eiest, Secoitd, and Tbted Seeies, with many Plates and Woodcuts, 

3 vols, crown 8vo. 10s. Gd. each. 
The APPLICATION of CAST and WROUGHT IRON to Building 

Purposes. By Sir W. Eaiebaten, Bart. E.R.S. Fourth Edition, enlarged; 

with 8 Plates and 118 Woodcuts. 8vo. price 16s. 
IRON SHIP BUILDING, its History and Progress, as comprised in a 

Series of Experimental Researches. By the same Author. With 4 Plates and 

130 Woodcuts. Svo. 18s. 
A TREATISE on the STEAM ENGINE, in its various Applications 

to Mines, Mills, Steam Navigation, Railwavs and Agriculture, By J. Botje]S t e, 

C.E. Eighth Edition ; with Portrait, 37 Plates, and 546 Woodcuts. 4to. 42s. 

CATECHISM of the STEAM ENGINE, in its various Applications to 
Mines, Mills, Steam Navigation, Railways, and Agriculture. By the same 
Author. With 89 Woodcuts. Ecp. 6s. 

HANDBOOK cf the STEAM ENGINE. By the same Author, forming a 
Key to the Catechism of the Steam Engine, with 67 Woodcuts. Ecp. 9s. 

BOURNE'S RECENT IMPROVEMENTS in the STEAM ENGINE in its 
various applications to Mines, Mills, Steam Navigation, Railways, and Agri- 
culture. Being a Supplement to the Author's 'Catechism of the Steam 
Engine.' By Johx Boue> t e, C.E. New Edition, including many New 
Examples; with 124 Woodcuts. Ecp. Svo. 6s. 

A TREATISE on the SCREW PROPELLER, SCREW VESSELS, and 
Screw Engines, as adapted for purposes of Peace and War ; with Notices 
of other Methods of Propulsion, Tables of the Dimensions and Performance 
of Screw Steamers, and detailed Specifications of Ships and Engines. By 
J. Bottese, C.E. New Edition, with 54 Plates and 287 Woodcuts. 4to. 63s. 

EXAMPLES of MODERN STEAM, AIR, and GAS ENGINES of 
the most Approved Types, as employed for Pumping, for Driving Machinery, 
for Locomotion, and for Agriculture, minutely and practically described. 
By Jom> Bouene, C.E. In course of publication in 24 Parts, price 2s. Gd. 
each, forming One volume 4to. with about 50 Plates and 400 Woodcuts. 

PRACTICAL TREATISE on METALLURGY, adapted from the last 
German Edition of Professor Keel's Metallurgy by W.Ceooee!S,E.R.S.&c. 
8M E. BoHEie, PLvDc M E With 625 Woodcuts. 3 voJs. Svo. price £4. 19s. 



NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS AXV CO. 



MITCHELL'S MANUAL of PRACTICAL ASSAYING. Third Edi- 
tion, for the most part re-written, with all the recent Discoveries incor- 
porated, by W. Cbookes, F.R.S. With 188 Woodcuts. 8vo. 28s. 

The ART of PERFUMERY ; the History and Theory of Odours, and 
the Methods of Extracting the Aromas of Plants. By Dr. Pibsse, F.C.S. 
Third Edition, with 53 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo. 10*. Qd. 

LOUDON'S ENCYCLOPEDIA of AGRICULTURE: comprising the 

Laying-out, Improvement, and Management of Landed Property, and the 
Cultivation and Economy of the Productions of Agriculture. With 1,100 
Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s. 

Loudon's Encyclopaedia of Gardening : comprising the Theory and 
Practice of Horticulture, Floriculture, Arboriculture, and Landscape Gar- 
dening. With 1,000 Woodcuts. 8vo. 21s. 

BAYLDON'S ART of VALUING RENTS and TILLAGES, and Claims 

of Tenants upon Quitting Farms, both at Michaelmas and Lady-Day. 
Eighth Edition, revised by "3". C. Moetobt. 8vo. 10s. Qd. 



Religious and Moral Works. 

The OUTLINES of the CHRISTIAN MINISTRY DELINEATED, and 

brought to the Test of Reason, Holy Scripture History, and Experience, 
with a view to the Reconciliation of Existing Differences concerning it, 
especially between Presbyterians and Episcopalians. By C. Woedswoeih, 
D.C.L. Bishop of St. Andrews, and Fellow of Winchester College. Crown 
Svo. price 7s. 6d. 

CHRISTIAN COUNSELS, Selected from the Devotional Works of 
Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambrai. Translated by A. M. Ja^ees. Crown 8vo. 
price 5s. 

CHRIST the CONSOLER ; a Book of Comfort for the Sick. With a 
Preface by the Eight Eev. the Lord Bishop of Carlisle. Small 8vo. price 6s. 

AUTHORITY and CONSCIENCE ; a Free Debate on the Tendency of 
Dogmatic Theology and on the Characteristics of Faith. Edited by Coxway 
Mobex. Post Svo. price 7s. 6c?. 

REASONS of FAITH ; or, the ORDEE of the Christian Argument 
Developed and Explained. By the Rev. G. S. Deew, M.A. Second Edition* 
revised and enlarged. Fcp. 8vo. price 6s. 

The TRUE DOCTRINE of the EUCHARIST. By Thomas S. L. Vogaw, 
D.D. Canon and Prebendary of Chichester and Rural Dean. Svo. price 18s. 

CHRISTIAN SACERDOTALISM, viewed from a Layman's standpoint 
or tried by Holy Scripture and the Early^Fathers ; with a short Sketch of 
the State of the Church from the end of the Third to the Reformation in 
the beginning of the Sixteenth Century. By John Jaedine, M.A. LLJ). 
8vo. price 8s. Qd. 

SYNONYMS of the OLD TESTAMENT, their BEARING on CHRIS- 
TIAN FAITH and PRACTICE. By the Rev. Robeet Bakee Gebdle- 
6T0XE, M.A. 8vo. price 15s. 

An INTRODUCTION to the THEOLOGY of the CHURCH of 
E:N GLAND, in an Exposition of the Thirty-nine Articles. By the Rev, 
T. P. Bouxtbee, LL.D. Fcp, 8vo. price 6s. 
B 2 



2S NEW WORKS PUBilSHED BY LONGMANS akd CO. 

FUNDAMENTALS ; or, Bases of Belief concerning MAN and GOD: 

a Handbook of Mental, Moral, and Religious Philosophy. By the Bey. 

T. Griffith, M.A. 8vo. price 10s. Gd. 
PEAYEES for the FAMILY and for PEIVATE USE, selected 

from the COLLECTION of the late BARON BUNSEN, and Translated by 

Catherine "Winkworth. Ecp. 8vo. price 3s. Gd. 

The STUDENT'S COMPENDIUM of the BOOS of COMMON 
PRATER ; being Notes Historical and Explanatory of the Liturgy of the 
Church of England. By the Rev. H. Allden Nash. Pep. 8vo. price 2s. Gd. 

The TRUTH of ths BIBLE: Evidence from the Mosaic and other 

Records of Creation; the Origin and Antiquity of Man; the Science of 

Scripture ; and from the Archaeology of Different Nations of the Earth. 

By the Rev. B. W. Savile, M.A. Crown 8vo. price 7s. Gd. 
CHURCHES and their CREEDS. By the Rev. Sir Philip Perring, 

Bart, late Scholar of Trin. Coll. Cambridge, and University Medallist. 

Crown 8vo. price 10s. Gd. 
CONSIDERATIONS on the REVISION of the ENGLISH NEW 

TESTAMENT. By C. J. Ellicott, D.D. Lord Bishop of Gloucester and 

Bristol. Post 8vo. price 5s. Gd. 

An EXPOSITION of the 89 ARTICLES, Historical and DoctrinaL 
By E. Harold Browne, D.D. Lord Bishop of Ely. Ninth Edit. 8vo. 16». 

The LIFE and EPISTLES of ST. PAUL. By the Eev. W. J. 

Conybeare, MsA*.j and the Very Rev. J. S. Howson, D.D. Dean of Chester j— 
Library EDmCr, with all the Original Illustrations, Maps, Landscapes 

on Steel, Woodcuts, &c. 2 vols. 4to. 48s. 
Intermediate Edition, with a Selection of Maps, Plates, and "Woodcuts. 

2 vols, square crown 8vo. 21s. 
Student's Edition, revised and condensed, with 1-6 Illustrations and 

Maps. 1 vol. crown 8vo. price 9s. . 

The VOYAGE and SHIPWRECK of ST. PAUL; with Dissertations 
en the Life and "Writings of St. Luke and the Ships and Navigation of the 
Ancients. By James Smith, P.R.S. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 10s. Gd. 

k CRITICAL and GRAMMATICAL COMMENTARY on ST. PAUL'S 
Epistles. By C. J. Ellicott, D.D. Lord Bishop of Gloucester & Bristol. 8vo» 

Ctalatians, Fourth Edition, 8s. 6d. 

Uphesians, Fourth Edition, 8s. 6d, 

Pastoral Epistles, Fourth Edition, 10s. 6d. 

Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon, Third Edition, 10s. 6d. 

f hessalonians, Third Edition, 7s. Gd. 

HISTORICAL LECTURES on the LIFE of OUE L0ED JESUS 
CHRIST: being the Hulsean Lectures for 1859. By C. J. Ellicott, D.D. 
Lord Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol. Eifth Edition. 8vo. price 12s. 

EVIDENCE of the TEUTH of the CHEISTIAH EELISIQN derived 

from the Literal Fulfilment of Prophecy. By Alexander Keith, D.D. 

37th Edition, with numerous Plates, in square 8vo. 12s. Gd. ; also the 39th 

Edition, in post 8vo. with 5 Plates, 6s. 
History and Destiny of the "World and Church, according to 

Scripture. By the same Author. Square 8vo. with 10 Illustrations, 10*. 



NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS and CO. 



An INTRODUCTION to the STUDY of the NEW TESTAMENT, 
Critical, Exegetical, and Theological. By the Rev. S. Davidson, D.B. 
LL.D. 2 vols. 8vo. 305. 

HART WELL HORNE'S INTRODUCTION to the CRITICAL STUDY 
and Knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, as last revised ; with 4 Maps and 
22 Woodcuts and Facsimiles. 4 vols, Svo. 42s. 

EWALD'S HISTORY of ISRAEL to the DEATH of MOSES. Trans- 
lated from the German. Edited, with a Preface and an Appendix, by Russell 
Maetineatt, MA.. Second Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. 24s. Vols. III. and IV. 
edited by J. E. Cabpentek, M.A. price 21s. 

The HISTORY and LITERATURE of the ISRAELITES, according 
to the Old Testament and the Apocrypha. By C. De Rothschild and 
A. De Rothschild. Second Edition, revised. 2 vols, post 8vo. with Two 
Maps, price 12s. 6d. Abridged Edition, in 1 vol. fcp. 8vo. price 3s. 6c?. 

The TREASURY of BIBLE KNOWLEDGE ; being a Dictionary of the 
Books, Persons, Places, Events, and other matters of which mention is made 
in Holy Scripture. By Rev. J. Ayee, M.A. With Maps, 16 Plates, and 
numerous Woodcuts. Ecp. 8vo. price 6s. cloth, or 10s. neatly bound in calf. 

The GREEK TESTAMENT ; with Notes, Grammatical and ExegeticaL 

By the Rev. W. Websteb, M.A. and the Rev. W. F. Wilkinson, Mi. 

2 vols. 8vo. £2 48. 
EVERY-DAY SCRIPTURE DIFFICULTIES explained and illustrated. 

By J. E.Peescott, M.A. Vol. I. Matthew and Mark; Vol. II. Luke and 

John. 2 vols. 8vo. 9s. each. 

The PENTATEUCH and BOOS of JOSHUA CRITICALLY EXAMINED. 
By the Right Rev. J. W. Colenso, D.D. Lord Bishop of Natal. People's 
Edition, in 1 vol. crown Svo. 6s. 
Pabt VI. the Later Legislation of the Pentateuch. Svo. price 24s. 

The FORMATION of CHRISTENDOM. By T. W. Allies. Pabts I. 

and II. 8vo. price 12s. each Part. 

ENGLAND and CHRISTENDOM. By Archbishop Manning, B.B. 

Post Svo. price 10s. Gd. 
A VIEW of the SCRIPTURE REVELATIONS CONCERNING a 

FUTURE STATE. By Richabd Whately, D.D. late Archbishop of 

Dublin. Ninth Edition. Fcp. 8vo. 5s% 
THOUGHTS for the AGE. By Elizabeth M. Sewell, Author of 

* Amy Herbert ' &c. New Edition, revised. Fcp. Svo. price 5s. 

Passing Thoughts on Religion. By the same Author. Fcp. 8vo. 3s. 6d. 
Self-Examination before Confirmation. By the same Author. 32mo. 

price Is. Gd. 
Readings for a Month Preparatory to Confirmation, from Writers 

of the Early and English Church. By the same Author. Ecp. 4s. 

Readings for Every Day in Lent, compiled from the Writings of 
Bishop Jebemy Taylob. By the same Author. Fcp. 5s. 

Preparation for the Holy Communion ; the Devotions chiefly from 
the works of Jeeesiy Tatloe. By the same Author. 32mo. 3s. 

THOUGHTS for the HOLY WEEK for Young Persons. By the Author 
of ' Amy Herbert.' New Edition. Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 



32 NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS Airo CO. 

PRINCIPLES of EDUCATION Drawn from Nature and Revelation, 
and applied to Female Education in the Upper Classes. By the Author 
of • Amy Herbert.' 2 vols. fcp. 12s. Qd. 

SINGERS and SONGS of the CHURCH : being Biographical Sketches 
of the Hymn- Writers in all the principal Collections; with Notes on their 
Psalms and Hymns. By Josiah Milleb, M.A. Post 8vo. price 105. Qd. , 

LYRA GERMANICA, translated from the German by Miss C. Wink- 
•WOETH. Fiest Seeies, Hymns for the Sundays and Chief Pestivals. 
Second Seeies, the Christian Life. Pep. 3s. Qd. each Seeies. 

•SPIRITUAL SONGS' for the SUNDAYS and HOLIDAYS through- 
out the Yean By J. S.B. Monsell, LL.D. Vicar of Egham and Rural Dean. 
Fourth Edition, Sixth Thousand. Fcp. 4s. Qd. 

The BEATITUDES : Abasement before God ; Sorrow for Sin ; Meekness 
of Spirit ; Desire for Holiness ; Gentleness ; Purity of Heart ; the Peace- 
makers ; Sufferings for Christ. By the same. Third Edition. Fcp. 3s. Qd. 

His PRESENCE— not his MEMORY, 1855. By the same Author 

in Memory of his Son. Sixth Edition. 16mo. Is. 
ENDEAVOURS after the CHRISTIAN LIFE: Discourses. By 

James Maetineatj. Fourth Edition, carefully revised. Post 8vo. 7s. Qd. 
WHATELY'S ; INTRODUCTORY LESSONS on the CHRISTIAN 

Evidences. 18mo. Qd. 
FOUR DISCOURSES of CHRYSOSTOM, chiefly on the Parable of the 

Rich Man and Lazarus. Translated by F. Alxen, B.A. Crown 8vo. 3s. Qd. 
BISHOP JEREMY TAYLOR'S ENTIRE WORKS. With Life by 

Bishop Hebeb. Revised and corrected by the Rev. C. P. Eden, 10 vols. 

price £5. 5s. 

Travels, Voyages, &c. 

SIX MONTHS in CALIFORNIA. By J. G. Playeb-Erowd. Post 

8vo. price 6s. 
The JAPANESE in AMERICA. By Charles Lanman, American 

Secretary, Japanese Legation, "Washington, U.S.A. Post 8vo. price 105. Qd. 
MY WIFE and I in QUEENSLAND ; Eight Years' Experience in 

the Colony, with some account of Polynesian Labour. By Charles H. 

Eden. With Map and Frontispiece. Crown 8vo. price 95. 
LIFE in INDIA ; a Series of Sketches shewing something of the 

Anglo-Indian, the Land he lives in, and the People among whom [he lives. 

By Edward Beaddon. Post 8vo. price 9s. 
HOW to SEE NORWAY. By Captain J. E. Campbell. With Map 

and 5 "Woodcuts. Fcp. 8vo. price 5s. 
PAU and the PYRENEES. By Count Henbt Russell, Member of 

the Alpine Club, &c. With 2 Maps. Fcp. 8vo. price 5s. 
SCENES in the SUNNY SOUTH; including the Atlas Mountains 

and the Oases of the Sahara in Algeria. By Lieut.-Col. the Hon. C. S. 

Veeekee, M.A. Commandant of the Limerick Artillery Militia. 2 vols. 

post 8vo. price 21s. 
The PLAYGROUND of EUROPE. By Leslie Stephen, late President 

of the Alpine Club. With 4 Illustrations engraved on.Wood by E. Whymper. 

Crown 8vo. price 10s. Qd. 



NEW WORKS published bt LONGMANS and CO. 23 

C ADORE ; or, TITIAN'S COUNTRY. By Josiah Gilbert, one of 

the Authors of ' The Dolomite Mountains.' "With Map, Facsimile, and 40 
Illustrations. Imperial 8vo. 31s. 6d. 

HOURS of EXERCISE in the ALPS. By John Tyndall, LL.D. 
P.R.S. Second Edition, with 7 Woodcuts by E. Whtmpeb. Crown 8vo. 
price 12s. Qd. 

TBAVELS in the CENTRAL CAUCASUS and BASHAN. Including 
Visits to Ararat and Tabreez and Ascents of Kazbek and Elbruz. By 
D. W. Fbeshiteld. Square crown 8vo. with Maps, &c. 18s. 

PICTURES in TYROL and Elsewhere. From a Family Sketch-Book. 

By the Authoress of ' A Voyage en Zigzag,' &c. Second Edition. Small 4to. 
with numerous Illustrations, 21s. 

HOW WE SPENT the SUMMER ; or, a Voyage en Zigzag in Switzer- 
land and Tyrol with some Members of the Alpine Club. Prom the Sketch- 
Book of one of the Party. In oblong 4to. with 300 Illustrations, 15s. 

BEATEN TRACKS ; or, Pen and Pencil Sketches in Italy. By the 
Authoress of ' A Voyage en Zigzag.' With 42 Plates, containing about 200 
Sketches from Drawings made on the Spot. 8vo. 16s. 

MAP of the CHAIN of MONT BLANC, from an actual Survey in 
1863—1864. By A. Adams-Reilly, F.R.G.S. M.A.C. Published under the 
Authority of the Alpine Club. In Chroinolithography on extra stout 
drawing-paper 28in. x 17in. price 10s. or mounted on canvas in a folding 
case, 12s. 6d. 

WESTWARD by RAIL; the New Route to the East. By W. F. Rae. 
With Map shewing the Lines of Rail between the Atlantic and the Pacific 
and Sections of the Railway. Second Edition. Post 8vo. price 10s. 6d. 

HISTORY of DISCOVERY in our AUSTRALASIAN COLONIES, 

Australia. Tasmania, and New Zealand, from the Earliest Date to- the 
Present Day. By William Howitt. 2 vols. 8vo. with 3 Maps, 20s. 
ZIGZAGGING AMONGST DOLOMITES. By the Author of ' How we 
Spent the Summer, or a Voyage en Zigzag in Switzerland and Tyrol.' 
With upwards of 300 Illustrations by the Author. Oblong 4to. price 15s. 

The DOLOMITE MOUNTAINS ; Excursions through Tyrol, Carinthia, 
Carniola, and Priuli, 1861-1863. By J. Gilbert and G. C. Chuechilx, 
F.R.G.S. With numerous Illustrations. Square crown Svo. 21s. 

GUIDE to the PYRENEES, for the use of Mountaineers. By 
Charles Packe. 2nd Edition, with Map and Illustrations. Cr. Svo. 7s. Qd. 

The ALPINE GUIDE. By John Ball, M.K.I.A. late President of 
the Alpine Club. Thoroughly Revised Editions, in Three Volumes, post 
8vo. with Maps and other Illustrations :— 

GUIDE to the WESTERN ALPS, including Mont Blanc, Monte Bosa, 
Zermatt, &c. Price 6s. Qd. 

GUIDE to the CENTRAL ALPS, including all the Oberland District. 
Price 7s. Qd. 

GUIDE to the EASTERN ALPS, price 10s. 6d. 

Introduction on Alpine Travelling in General, and on the Geology 

of the Alps, price Is. Each of the Three Volumes or Parts of the Alpine 
Guide may be had with this Introduction prefixed, price is. extra. 



NEW WOKKS published by LONGMANS and CO. 



VISITS to EEMAKKABLE PLACES: Old Halls, Battle-Fields, and 
Stones Illustrative of Striking Passages in English History and Poetry. 
By William. Howitt. 2 vols, square crown 8vo. with Woodcuts,, 25.?. 

The BUBAL LIFE of ENGLAND. By the same Author. With 
Woodcuts by Bewick and Williams. Medium 8vo. 12s. Gd. 

Works of Fiction. 

POPULAB BOMANCES of the MIDDLE AGES. By George W. 
Cox, M.A. Author of 'The Mythology of the Aryan Nations' &c. and 
Eustace IIinton Jones. Crown 8vo. price 10s. Gd. 

HABTLAND FOBEST ; a Legend of North Devon. By Mrs. Brat, 
Author of ' The White Hoods,' * Life of Stothard,' &c. Post 8vo. with Fron- 
tispiece, price is. Gd. 

NOVELS and TALES. By the Eight Hon. B. Disraeli, M.P. 

Cabinet Edition, complcto in Ten Volumes, crown 8vo. price 6s. each, as 



follows : 
Lothair, Gs. 

CONINGSBY, fty. 

Sybil, 6s. 
Tancred, 6s. 
Venetia, 6s. 



Henrietta Temple, 6s. 
Contarini Fleming, &c. 6s. 
Alroy, Ixion, Ac. 6s. 
The Young Duke, &c. 6s. 
Vivian Grey, 6s. 



The MODEBN NOVELIST'S LIBEABT. Each Work, in crown 8vo. 

complete in a Single Volume : — 
Melville's Gladiators, 2s. boards; 2s. Gd. cloth. 

Good eor Nothing, 2s. boards ; 2s. Gd. cloth. 

Holmby House, 2s. boards j 2s. Gd. cloth. 

Interpreter, 2s. boards ; 2s. Gd. cloth. 

Kate Coventry, 2s. boards ; 2s. Gd. cloth. 

Queen's Maries, 2s. boards ; 2s. Gd. cloth. 

Dioby Grand, 2s. boards j 2s. Gd. cloth. 

Trollope's Warden, Is. Gd. boards ; 2s. cloth. 

Baroitester Towers, 2s. boards ; 9.s. Gd. cloth. 

Bramley-Moore'b Six Sisters of the Valleys, 2s. boards ; 2s. Gd. cloth. 

IEBNE ; a Tale. By W. Steuart Trench, Author of * Realities of 

Irish Life.' Second Edition. 2 vols, post 8vo. price 21s. 
YABNDALE ; a Story of Lancashire Life by a Lancashire Man. 

3 vols, post 8vo. price 21s. 
CABINET EDITION of STOBIES and TALES by Miss Sewell:— 



Amy Herbert, 2s. Gd. 
Gertrude, 2s. Gd. 
The Earl's Daughter, 2s. Gd. 
Experience of Liee, 2s. 6d. 
Clevb Hail, 2s. Gd. 



Ivors, 2s. Gd. 
Katharine Ashton, 2*. Gd. 
Margaret Percival, 3s. Gd. 
Laneton Parsonage, 3s. Gd. 
Ursula, 3s. Gd. 



STOBIES and TALES. By E. M. Setvell. Comprising:— Amy 
Herbert; Gertrude; The Earl's Daughter; The Experience of Life; Cleve 
Hall; Ivors; Katharine Ashton; Margaret Percival; Laneton Parsonage; 
and Ursula. The Ten Works, complete in Eight Volumes, crown 8vo. bound 
in leather, and contained in a Box, price 42s. 

A Glimpse of the World. By the Author of 'Amy Herbert.' Fcp. 7*. 6d. 

The Journal of a Home Life. By the same Author. Post 8vo. 9s. 6cL 

After Life ; a Sequel to ' The Journal of a Home Life.' Price 10s. 6dL 



NEW WORKS published by LONGMANS and GO. 25 

THE GIANT ; A Witch's Story for English Boys. By the same 
Author and Editor. Fcp. Svo. price 5s. 

WONDERFUL STORIES from KGB WAY, SV/EBEN, and ICELAND. 

Adapted and arranged by Julia Goddaed. With an Introductory Essay 
by the Rev. G. W. Cox, M.A. and Six Woodcuts. Square post 8vo. 6s. 

BECKER'S GALLTJS; or, Roman Scenes of the Time of Augustus: 
with Notes and Excursuses. New Edition. Post 8vo. 7s. 6c?. 

BECKER'S CHARICLES; a Tale illustrative of Private Life among the 
Ancient Greeks : with Notes and Excursuses. New Edition. Post 8vo. 7s. Qd. 

TALES of ANCIENT GREECE. By George W. Cox, M.A. late 
Scholar of Trin. Coll. Oxon. Crown 8vo. price 6s, 6d. 

A MANUAL of MYTHOLOGY, in the form of Question and Answer. 
By the same Author. Ecp. 3s. 



Poetry and The Drama. 

A VISION of CREATION, a POEM ; with an Introduction, Geolo- 
gical and Critical. By Cuthbeet Collingwood, M.A. and B.M. Oxon. 
P.L.S. &c. Author of ' Rambles of a Naturalist on the Shores and Waters of 
the China Seas,' &c. Crown 8vo. price 7s. 6d. 

BALLADS and LYRICS of OLD FRANCE; with other Poems. By 
A. Lang, Fellow of Morton College, Oxford. Square fcp. 8vo. price 5s. 

SONGS of the SIERRAS. By Joaquin Miixee. New Edition, revised 

by the Author. Fcp. Svo. price 6s. 
THOMAS MOORE'S POETICAL WORKS, with the Author's last 
Copyright Additions : — 
Shameock Edition, crown Svo. price 3s. 6d. 

People's Edition, square crown Svo. with Illustrations, price 10s. Qd. 
Libeaby Edition, medium Svo. Portrait and Vignette, 14s. 

MOORE'S IRISH MELODIES, Maclise's Edition, with 161 Steel Plates 
from Original Drawings. Super-royal Svo. 31s. 6d. 

Miniature Edition of Moore's Irish Melodies with Maclise's De- 
signs (as above) reduced in Lithography. Imp. 16mo. 10s. 6d. 

MOORE'S LALLA ROOKH. Tenniel's Edition, with 68 Wood 
Engravings from original Drawings and other Illustrations. Fcp. 4to. 21s. 

SOUTHEY'S POETICAL WORKS, with the Author's last Corrections 
and 'copyright Additions. Library Edition, in 1 vol. medium 8vo. with 
Portrait and Vignette, 14s. 

LAYS of ANCIENT ROME ; with Ivry and the Armada. By the 
Right Hon. Loed Macatjxat. 16mo. 3s. 6d. 

Lord Macaulay's Lay3 of Ancient Rome. With 90 Illustrations on 
Wood, from the Antique, from Drawings by G. Sctiarp. Fcp. 4to. 21s. 

Miniature Edition of Lord Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome, 
with the Illustrations (as above) reduced in Lithography. Imp. 16mo.10s.6d. 



26 NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS AND CO. 



GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS, with Wood Engravings from 
Designs by Members of the Etching Club. Imperial 16mo. 7*. Sd. 

The 2ENEID of VIRGIL Translated into English Verse. By John 
Conington, M.A. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 9*. 

The ODES and EPODES of HORACE ; a Metrical Translation into 
English, with Introduction and Commentaries. By Lord Lytton. With 
Latin Text. New Edition. Post 8vo. price 10s. 6d. 

HORATII OPERA. Library Edition, with Marginal Keferences and 
English Notes. Edited by the Rev. J. E. Yonge. 8vo. 21s. 

BOWDLER'S FAMILY SHAKSPEARE, cheaper Gennine Editions. 
Medium 8vo. large type, with 36 Woodcuts, price 14s. Cabinet Edition, 
with the same Illusteations, 6 vols. fcp. 3s. 6d. each. 

POEMS. By Jean Ingelow. Fifteenth Edition. Fcp. 8vo. 5s. 

POEMS by Jean Ingelow. With nearly 100 Illustrations by Eminent 
Artists, engraved on Wood by the Brothers Dalziel. Fcp. 4to. 21s. 

A STORY of DOOM, and other Poems. By Jean Ingelow. Third 
Edition. Fcp. 5s. 

ETTCHARIS ; a Poem. By F. Reginald Statham (Francis Reynolds), 
Author of 'Alice Rushton, and other Poems' and ' Glaphyra, and other 
Poems.' Pep. 8vo. price 3s. 6d. 

WORKS by EDWARD YARDLEY:— 

Fantastic Stoeies. Pep. Ss.Gd. 

Melusine and othee Poems. Pep. 5s. 

Hoeace's Odes, translated into English Verse. Crown Svo. 6s. 

Supplementary Stoeies and Poems. Pep. 3s. Qd. 



Rural Sports, &c. 

ENCYCLOPEDIA of RURAL SPORTS ; a complete Account, Histo- 
rical, Practical, and Descriptive, of Hunting, Shooting, Pishing, Racing, 
and all other Rural and Athletic Sports and Pastimes. By D. P. Blaine. 
With above 600 Woodcuts (20 from Designs by John Ieech). 8vo. 21s. 

The DEAD SHOT, or Sportsman's Complete Guide ; a Treatise on 
the Use of the Gun, Dog-breaking, Pigeon-shooting, &c. By MAEKSMAN. 
Revised Edition. Fcp. 8vo. with Plates, 5s. 

The FLY-FISHER'S ENTOMOLOGY. By Alfred Ronalds. With 
coloured Representations of the Natural and Artificial Insect. Sixth 
Edition ; with 20 coloured Plates. 8vo. 14s. 

A BOOK on ANGLING ; a complete Treatise on the Art of Angling 

in every branch. By Francis Feancis. New Edition, with Portrait 
and 15 other Plates, plain and coloured. Post 8vo. 15s. 



NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY LONGMANS AND CO. 27 

The BOOK of the ROACH. By Geeville Fennell, of « The Field.' 
Fcp. 8vo. price 2*. Qd. 

WILCOCKS'S SEA-FISHERMAN; comprising the Chief Methods of 
Hook and Line Fishing in the British and other Seas, a Glance at Nets, 
and Remarks on Boats and Boating. Second Edition, enlarged ; with 80 
Woodcuts. Post 8vo. 125. Qd. 

HORSES and STABLES. By Colonel F. Fitzwygram, XV. the King's 
Hussars. With Twenty-four Plates of Illustrations, containing very 
numerous Figures engraved on Wood. 8vo. 15*. 

The HORSE'S FOOT, and HOW to KEEP IT SOUND. By W. 

Miles, Esq. Ninth Edition, with Illustrations. Imperial 8vo. 12*. Qd. 

A PLAIN TREATISE on HORSE-SHOEING. By the same Author. 
Sixth Edition. Post 8vo. with Illustrations, 25. Qd. 

STABLES and STABLE-FITTINGS. By the same. Imp. 8vo. with 
13 Plates, 15*. 

REMARKS on HORSES' TEETH, addressed to Purchasers. By the 
same. Post 8vo. 15. Qd. 

A TREATISE on HORSE-SHOEING and LAMENESS. By Joseph 
Gamgee, Veterinary Surgeon,, formerly Lecturer on the Priuciples and 
Practice of Farriery in the New Veterinary College, Edinburgh. 8vo. with 
55 Woodcuts, price 155. 

BLAINE'S VETERINARY ART ; a Treatise on the Anatomy, Physi- 
ology, and Curative Treatment of the Diseases of the Horse, Neat Cattle 
and Sheep. Seventh Edition, revised and enlarged by C. Sieei, M.R.C.V.S Jj. 
8vo. with Plates and Woodcuts, 185. 

The HORSE: with a Treatise on Draught. By William Youatt. 

New Edition, revised and enlarged. 8vo. with numerous Woodcuts, ]25. Qd. 

The DOG. By the same Author. 8vo. with numerous Woodcuts, 6*. 

The DOG in HEALTH and DISEASE. By Stonehenge. With 70 
Wood Engravings. Square crown 8vo. 10s. Qd, 

The GREYHOUND. By Stonehenge. Revised Edition, with 24 
Portraits of Greyhounds. Square crown 8vo. 105. Qd. 

The OX ; his Diseases and their Treatment: with an Essay on Parturi- 
tion in the Cow. By J. R. Dobson. Crown 8vo. with Illustrations, 75. Qd. 



Works of Utility and General Information. 

The THEORY and PRACTICE of BANKING. By H. D. Macxeod, 

M.A.Barrister-at-Law. Second Edition, entirely remodelled. 2 vols. 8vo. 30*. 
A DICTIONARY, Practical, Theoretical, and Historical, of Com- 
merce and Commercial Navigation. By J. R. M'Cuxloch. New and 
thoroughly revised Edition. 8vo. price 635. cloth, or 705. half-bd. in russia. 



NEW WORKS PTTBU3KED 3Y LONGMANS AND CO. 



The LAW of NATIONS Considered as Independent Political Commu- 
nities. By Sir Teayees Twiss, D.C.L. 2 vols. Svo. 30s.; or separately, 
Part I. Peace, 12s. Part II. War, 18s. 

The CABINET LAWYEB ; a Popular Digest of the Laws of England, 
Civil, Criminal, and Constitutional: intended for Practical Use and 
General Information. Twenty-third Edition. Pep. 8vo. price 7s. 6d. 

PEWTNER'S COMPBEEENSIVE SPECIFIES; a Guide to the 
Practical Specification of every kind of Building-Artificers' Work ; with 
Porms of Building Conditions and Agreements, au Appendix, Poot-Notes, 
and a copious Index. Edited by W. Young, Architect. Crown Svo. price 6s. 

COLLIERIES and COLLIERS ; a Handbook of the Law and Leading 
Cases relating thereto. By J. C. Powlee, of the Inner Temple, Barrister. 
Second Edition. Pep. Svo. 7s. Qd. 

The MATEBNAL MANAGEMENT of CHILDREN in HEALTH and 
Disease. By Thomas Bttll, MJ). Pep. 5s. 

HINTS to MOTHERS on the MANAGEMENT of their HEALTH 
during th9 Period of Pregnancy and in the Lying-in Room. By the late 
Thomas Bull, M.D. Pep. 5s. 

HOW to NURSE SICK CHILDREN; containing Directions which 
maybe found of service to all who have charge of the Young. By Chaeles 
West, M.D. Second Edition. Pep. Svo. Is. Qd. 

NOTES on LYING-IN INSTITUTIGIfS ; with a Proposal for Orga- 
* nising an Institution for Training Midwives and Midwifery Nurses. By 
Ploeence Nightingale. With 5 Plans. Square crown 8vo. 7s. Qd. 

NOTES on HOSPITALS. By Florence Nightingale. Third Edi- 
tion, enlarged ; with 13 Flans". Post 4to. 18s. 

CHESS OPENINGS. By F. W. Longman, Balliol College, Oxford. 
Pep. 8vo. 2s. Qd. 

A PRACTICAL TREATISE on BREWING ; with Formula for Public 
Brewers, and Instructions for Private Families. By W. Blacs. 8vo. 10s. 6c?. 

MODERN COOKERY for PRIVATE FAMILIES, reduced to a System 
of Easy Practice in a Series of carefully-tested Receipts. By Eiiza Acton. 
Newly revised and enlarged Edition ; with 8 Plates of Pigures and 150 
Woodcuts. Pep. 6s. 

WILLICH'S POPULAR TABLES, for ascertaining, according to tho 
Carlisle Table of Mortality, the value of Lifehold, Leasehold, and Church 
Property, Renewal Pines, Reversions, &c. Seventh Edition, edited by 
Montague Maesiott, Barrister-at-Law. Post Svo. price 10s. 

MAUNDER' S TREASURY of KNOWLEDGE and LIBRARY of 

Reference: comprising an English Dictionary and Grammar, Universal 
Gazetteer, Classical Dictionary, Chronology, Law Dictionary, a Synopsis 
of the Peerage, useful Tables &c. Revised Edition. Pep. Svo. price 6s. 



INDEX 



AOTOH's Modern Cookery 28 

ALLEN 'S Four Discourses 01 Chrysostom . . 22 

Allies on Formation of Christendom .... 21 

Alpine Guide (The) 23 

AMOS's Jurisprudence 5 

Arnold's Manual of English Literature . . 7 

Aenott'S Elements of Physics 11 

Authority and Conscience 19 

Autumn Holidays of a Country Parson .... S 

Aybe's Treasury of Bible Knowledge 21 

Bacon's Essays, by "Whately 6 

Life and Letters, by Speddixg .. 5 

"Works, edited by Speddixg 6 

Bain's Logic, Deductive and Inductive .... 10 

Mental and Moral Science 10 

on the Senses and Intellect 10 

Ball's Alpine Guide 23 

Bayldox's Rents and Tillages 19 

Beaten Tracks 23 

Beokee'S Charicles and Gallus 25 

Benfey'S Sanskrit Dictionary 8 

BERNARD on British Neutrality 1 

Black's Treatise on Brewing 28 

Blackley's German-English Dictionary .. 8 

BLAINE'S Rural Sports 26 

Veterinary Art 27 

Bloxam's Metals - 12 

Booth's Saint-Simon 3 

BOTJLTBEE on 39 Articles 19 

Bourne on Screw Propeller 18 

Bourne's Catechism of the Steam Engine . 18 
_. Handbook of Steam Engine .... 18 

Improvements in the Steam 

Engine 18 

——^— Treatise on the Steam i.ngine .. 18 

Examples of Modern Engines .. 18 

Bowdleb's Family Shakspeabe 28 

BbaddOX'S Life in India 22 

Beamley-Mooee's Six Sisters of the 

Valleys 24 

Bbande's Dictionary of Science, Litera- 
ture, and Art • 14 

BEAY'S Manual of Anthropology 10 

Philosophy of Necessity 10 

on Force 10 

._ (Mrs.) Hartland Forest 24 

Beee's Fallacies of Darwinism 13 

Bbowne's Exposition of the 39 Articles. ... 20 

Beunel's Life of Erunel 4 

Buckle's History of Civilization 4 

BULL'S Hints to Mothers 23 

Maternal Management, of Children 23 

Bunsen's GodinHistory 3 

Prayers 20 

Bubke's Vicissitudes of Families 5 

Burton's Christian Church 4 

Cabinet Lawyer 23 



Campbell's Norway 22 

Cates'S Biographical Dictionary 5 

and 'Woodward's Encyclopaedia 4 

Cats' and Farlie's Moral Emblems 17 

Changed Aspects of Unchanged Truths .... 9 

Chesney'S Indian Polity 8 

Waterloo Campaign 3 

ChoraleBook for England 16 

Christ the Consoler 19 

CLOUGH'S Lives from Plutarch 2 

Colenso (Eishop) on Pentateuch 21 

Collingttood's Vision of Creation 25 

Collins's Perspective , 17 

Commonplace Philosopher, by A. K. H. B. 8 

CONINGTON'S Translation of the Jineid.... 86 

Miscellaneous "Writings 8 

CONTANSEAU'sFrench-EnglishDictionarieg 8 

Conybeaee and Howson's St. Paul 20 

Cotton's (Bishop) Life 5 

COOPEE'S Surgical Dictionary 15 

Copland's Dictionary of Practical Medicine 16 

Counsel and Comfort from a City Pulpit. ... 8 

Cox's Aryan Mythology 3 

Manual of Mythology 25 

Tale of the Great Persian "War 2 

Tales of Ancient Greece 25 

and Jones's Popular Romances .... 24 

Cbeasy on British Constitutions 3 

Csesy's Encyclopaedia of Civil Engineering 18 

Critical Essays of a Country Parson 8 

Cbookes on Beet-Root Sugar 16 

's Chemical Analysis 15 

Culley's Handbook of Telegraphy 18 

Cusack's History of Ireland 3 

D'Aueigne's History of the Reformation 

in the time of Caltcx 2 

Davidson's Introduction to New Testament 21 

Dead Shot (The), by Maeksman 26 

De la Rive's Treatise on Electricity 12 

Denison's Vice-Regal Life I 

DisbaelTs Lord George Bentinck 4 

Novels and Tales 24 

Dobell's Medical Reports 15 

Dobson on the Ox 27 

Doveou Storms n 

Doyle's Fairyland 16 

Dbew's Reasons of Faith 19 

Dyee's City of Rome 2 

E ASTLAKE'S Hints on Household Taste .... 17 

Gothic Revival 17 

Edex's Queensland 14 

Elements of Botany 22 

Ellicott on the Revision of the English 

New Testament 20 

Commentary on Ephesians .... 20 

Commentary on Galatians .... 20 



30 



NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY LONGMANS AND CO. 



Ellicott's Commentary on Pastoral Epist. 20 

__ Philippians, &c. 20 

Thessalonians 20 

Lectures on the Life of Christ... 20 

Evans' s Ancient Stone Implements 13 

EWALD'S History of Israel..... 21 

FAIRBAIRN on Iron Shipbuilding 18 

'8 Applications of Iron 18 

Information for Engineers .. 18 

Mills and Millwork 18 

Faraday's Life andLetters 4 

Farrar's Families of Speech 9 

Chapters on Language 7 

Fennell's Book of the Roach 27 

Fitzwygram on Horses and Stables 27 

Fowler's Collieries and Colliers 28 

Francis's Fishing Book 26 

Freshfield's Travels in the Caucasus .... 23 

Frotjdb's History of England 1 

Short Studies on Great Subjects 9 

Gamgee on Horse-Shoeing 27 

Ganot'S Elementary Physics 12 

, Natural Philosophy 12 

Gilbert's Cadore, or Titian's Country .... 23 

Gilbert and Churchill's Dolomites .... 23 

Girdlestone's Bible Synonymes 19 

Gle dstone' s Life of Whitefield ...... 5 

Goddard's Wonderful Stories 25 

Goldsmith's Poems, Illustrated 26 

Goodeve's Mechanism , 12 

Graham's Autobiography of Milton .... 4 

View of Literature and Art .... 3 

Grant's Home Politics 3 

Ethics of Aristotle 6 

Graver Thoughts of a Country Parson 8 

Gray's Anatomy 16 

Greenhow onBronchitis 15 

Griffin's Algebra and Trigonometry .... 12 

Griffith's Fundamentals 20 

Grove on Correlation of Physical Forces . . 13 

Gurney's Chapters of French History .... 2 

Gwilt's Encyclopedia of Architecture .... 17 



HARE on Election of Representatives 7 

HARTWIG'S Harmonies of Nature 13 

Polar World 14 

_ Sea and its Living Wonders .. 13 

Subterranean World 14 

Hatherton's Memoir and Correspondence 2 

Herschel's Outlines of Astronomy 10 

Hewitt on Diseases of Women 15 

Hodgson's Theory of Practice 10 

TimeandSpace 10 

Holland's Recollections 4 

Holmes's System of Surgery 15 

Surgical Diseases of Infancy .... 15 

Horne's Introduction to the Scriptures .... 21 

How we Spent the Summer 23 

Howitt's Australian Discovery 23 

Rural Life of England 24 

Visits to Remarkable Places .... 84 



Hubner's Memoir of Sixtns V 2 

Hughes's CW.) Manual of Geography .... 11 

HuMB'sEssays lo 

Treatise on Human Nature 10 

Ihne's Roman History 2 

Ingelow's Poems 28 

Story of Doom 26 

James's Christian Counsels » 19 

Jameson's Saints and Martyrs 17 

Legends of the Madonna 17 

Monastic Orders 17 

Jameson and Eastlake's Saviour 17 

Jardine's Christian Sacerdotalism 19 

Johnston's Geographical Dictionary n 

Jones's Royal Institution 4 

Kalisoh's Commentary on the Bible 7 

Hebrew Grammar 7 

Keith on Fulfilment of Prophecy 20 

Destiny of the World 20 

Kerl's Metallurgy 18 

Kirby and Spenoe's Entomology 14 

Lang's Ballads and Lyrics ' 25 

Lanman's Japanese in America 22 

Latham's English Dictionary 7 

Laughton's Nautical Surveying 11 

Lawlor's Pilgrimages in the Pyrenees .... 24 

Lecky's History of European Morals 8 

Rationalism 8 

Leaders of Public Opinion 5 

Leisure Hours in Town, by A. K. H, B 8 

Lessons of Middle Age, by A. K. H.B 9 

Lewes' History of Philosophy S 

Liddell and Scott's Two Lexicons 8 

Life of Man Symbolised , 17 

Lindley and Moore's Treasury of Botany 14 

Longman's Edward the Third » 

Lectures on the History of Eng- 
land 8 

Chess Openings 28 

Loudon's Agriculture 19 

Gardening 19 

Plants 14 

Lubbock on Origin of Civilisation IS 

Lyra Germanica 16,17,22 

Lytton's Odes of Horace 26 

MAOAULAY's (Lord) Essays 8 

— History of England .. 1 

Lays of Ancient Rome 26 

MiscellaneousWritings 9 

Speeches 7 

Complete Works 1 

Macleod's Elements of Political Economy 7 
Dictionary of Political Eco- 
nomy 7 

— . — Theory andPracticeofBanking 87 



NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS Ann CO. 



SI 



MoCullooh's Dictionary of Commerce .. 27 

Maguire's Life of Father Mathew ........ 5 

: PopePiusIX 5 

Mankind, their Origin and Destiny 13 

Manning's England and Christendom .... 21 

Mabcet'S Natural Philosophy 12 

Marshall's Physiology 16 

Mabshman's Life of Havelock 5 

History of India 3 

Mabtxneatj's Christian Life 22 

Massingbebd's History of the Reformation 4 

Mathews on Colonial Question 3 

Matjndee'S Biographical Treasury 6 

, i — Geographical Treasury 11 

Historical Treasury 4 

Scientific and Literary Trea- 
sury 14 

Treasury of Knowledge 28 

Treasury of Natural History 14 

Maxwell's Theory of Heat 12 

May's Constitutional History of England. . 1 

Melville's Novels and Tales 24 

Mendelssohn's Letters 5 

Mebivale's Fall of the Roman Republic. 3 

Romans under the Empire 2 

Mebbieield's Arithmetic & Mensuration . 12 

Magnetism 11 

and Eveb's Navigation.... 11 

Meteyaed'S Group of Englishmen 4 

Miles on Horse's Foot and Horseshoeing . . 27 

Horses' Teeth and Stables 27 

Mill (J.) on the Mind 9 

Mill (J. S.) on Liberty 6 

on Representative Government 6 

on Utilitarianism 6 

Mill's (J. S.) Dissertations and Discussions 6 
Political Economy 6 

SystemofLogic 6 

Hamilton's Philosophy 6 

Subjection of Women 6 

Milleb's Elements of Chemistry v . . 14 

Hymn-Writers 22 

Inorganic Chemistry 12 

Sorigs of the Sierras 25 

Mitchell's Manual of Architecture 17 

Manual of Assaying 19 

Monsell's Beatitudes 22 

. His Presence not his Memory 22 

' Spiritual Songs'..... 22 

MOOBE'S Irish Melodies 25 

Lalla Rookh 25 

Poetical Works 25 

Mobell's Elements of Psychology 9 

Mental Philosophy 9 

Mtjlleb's (Max) Chips from a German 

Workshop 9 

Lectures on Language 7 

i — (K. O.) Literature of Ancient 

Greece 2 

MtjBOHISON on Liver Complaints 16 

Mube's Language and Literature of Greece 2 

Nash's Compendium of the Prayer Book. . 20 

New Testament, Illustrated Edition 16 



Newman's History of his Religions Opinions 5 

Nightingale's Notes on Hospitals 88 

Lying-In Insti- 
tutions 2B 

Nilsson'8 Scandinavia K 

Nobthcott's Lathes and Turning 17 

Odling's Course of Practical Chemistry.. 14 

Outlines of Chemistry 14 

Owen's Lectures on the Lnvertebrata 18 

— — — Comparative Anatomy and Physic- 
logy of Vertebrate Animals .... 13 

P acre's Guide to the Pyrenees 23 

Paget's Lectures on Surgical Pathology .. 15 

Pereiba's Elements of Materia Medica .. 16 

Pebbing's Churches and Creeds 20 

Pewtneb's Comprehensive Specifier 28 

Picturesin Tyrol 23 

Piesse's Art of Perfumery 19 

Playeb-Fbowd's California 22 

Pbendergast's Mastery of Languages.... 8 

Prescott'S Scripture Difficulties 81 

Present-Day Thoughts, by A. K. H..B 9 

Proctor's Astronomical Essays w 

New Star Atlas n 

Orbs Around TJs n 

Plurality of Worlds n 

Saturn and its System 11 

TheSun 10 

Scientific Essays 12 

Public Schools Atlas (.The) u 

Rae's Westward by Rail 23 

Ranken on Strains in Trusses lg 

Recreations of a Country Parson, by 

A. K. H. B g 

Reeve's Royal and Republican France . . 2 

Reilly's Map of Mont Blanc 23 

Rivers' Rose Amateur's Guide fc 

Rogers's Eclipse of Faith 9 

Defence of ditto 9 

Roget's English Words and Phrases 7 

Ronald's Fly-Fisher's Entomology ...... ss 

Rose's Ignatius Loyola 2 

Rothschild's Israelites ai 

Russell's Pau and the Pyrenees 22 

Sandars'S Justinian's Institutes 6 

Savile on the Truth of the Bible 19 

Schellen's Spectrum Analysis 11 

Scott's Lectures on the Fine Arts 16 

AlbertDurer 16 

Seaside Musings, by A. K. H. B 8 

Seebohm's Oxford Reformers of 1498 9 

Sewell's After Life %i 

Amy Herbert 24 

CleveHall 2 4 

Earl's Daughter 24 

Examination for Confirmation ,. 21 



NEW WORKS published BY LONGMANS ash CO. 



Sewell's Experience of Life 24 

Gertrude 24 

Giant 25 

Glimpse of the World . 24 

History of the Early Church .... 4 

_ Ivors... 24 

; Journal of a Home Life 24 



Katharine Ashton. 



Eaneton Parsonage 24 

Margaret Percival 24 

Passing Thoughts on Religion .. 21 

Preparations for Communion 21 

Principles of Education 21 

Readings for Confirmation 21 

— Readings for Lent 21 

Tales and Stories 21 

._ Thoughts for the Age 21 

Ursula 24 

Thoughts for the Holy Week .... 21 



Shout's Church History 4 

Smith's (J.) Paul's Voyage and Shipwreck 20 

(Sydney) Miscellaneous Works.. 9 

Wit and Wisdom 9 

: Life and Letters 5 

„ (Dr. R. A.) Air and Rain 11 

Southey's Doctor 7 

. ______ Poetical Works 25 

Stanley's History of British Birds „ 13 

Statham's Eucharis 26 

Stephen's Ecclesiastical Biography ...... 5 

Playground of Europe 22 

Stirling's Secret of Hegel 9 

. Sir William Hamilton 9 

Protoplasm 10 

Stonehenge on the Dog 27 

on the Greyhound 27 

Strickland's Queens of England 5 

Sunday Afternoons at the Parish Church of 

a Scottish University City, by A. K. H. B.. 9 

Taylor's History of India 3 

. (Jeremy) Works, edited by Eden 22 

Text-Books of Science 12 

Thirl wall's History of Greece 2 

Thomson's Laws of Thought 6 

New World of Being 10 

Thudichum's Chemical Physiology 15 

Todd (A.) on Parliamentary Government 1 
Todd and Bowman's Anatomy and Phy- 
siology of Man 16 

Trench's Ierne, a Tale 24 

Trench's Realities of Irish Life 3 

Teollope's Barcheater Towers 24 

Warden 24 

TwiS3'3 Law of Nations........ 28 

Tyndall on Diamagnetism 12 

. — Electricity 12 

Heat 12 

Sound 12 

, 's Faraday as a Discoverer 4 

Fragments of Science 12 



Tyndall's Hours of Exercise in the Alps.. SB 

Lectures on Light it 

— ;Molecular Physics 12 

Ueberweo's System of Logic 9 

Ure's Arts, Manufactures, and Mines 18 

Van Der Hoeyen's Handbook of Zoology 18 

Vereker's Sunny South 32 

Vogan's Doctrine of the Eucharist 19 

Walcott's Traditions of Cathedrals 

Watson's Geometry 12 

Principles & Practice of Physic . IS 

Watts's Dictionary of Chemistry 14 

Webb's Objects for Common Telescopes .. 11 
Webster and Wilkinson's Greek Testa- 
ment 31 

Wellington's Life, by Gleig ft 

West on Children's Diseases 16 

Nursing Sick Children 28 

's Lumleian Lectures 14 

Whately'3 English Synonymes 6 

Logic R 

Rhetoric 6 

Whately on a Future State 21 

Truth of Christianity 82 

White's Latin-English Dictionaries 7 

Wilcock's Sea Fisherman.. 27 

Williams's Aristotle's Ethics 6 

Williams on Climate of South of France 1* 

: Consumption IS 

Willich's Popular Tables 28 

Willis's Principles of Mechanism 17 

Winslow on Light 12 

Wood's Bible Animals 13 

Homes without Hands 13 

Insects at Home 13 

— . Strange Dwellings ...; 13 

(T.) Chemical Notes' 15 

Wordsworth's Christian Ministry 19 

Yardley's Poetical Works 26 

Yarndale 24 

Yonge's English-Greek Lexicons 8 

Horace 26 

History of England 1 

, Three Centuries of English Lite- 
rature 7 

i Modern History 3 

YoUATTonthe Dog 27 

on the Horse 27 

Zeller's Socrates 6 

Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics.. 6 

Zigzagging amongst Dolomites 23 



Sjpottisvooode & Co., Printers, New-street Square, london. 



u ihi 



